The Air
by InvaderSunshine
Summary: "The day I met him, the air smelled like shit." Jill/PonyxSkye (Picture is not mine)
1. The Attempted Robbery That Was Not

A/N: Hello! Here's the first chapter of my new story. I think it's my best one yet, but you tell me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon, but I sure wish I did.

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The day I met him, the air smelled like shit.

And our first encounter was shit, too.

It wasn't even because of the smell in the air that our first encounter was shit. Being a farmer, that was expected for the places in which my animals thrived. My pasture was right behind my house, along with a livestock mother-load. You heard it; manure is always plentiful. Our first encounter was shit because the guy tried to rob me.

You'd think that I would have been scared. Terrified even. But that wasn't the case. I had seen zombie cows for, goodness' sake! Oh, the horrors I had seen in that mine… So when I saw his warning note pasted on my door, I already knew what was going down.

 _Expect a missing chicken in the morning.  
~Phantom Skye_

My first thought was: _Hell no, not Fluffy_. Naturally, he'd take my prizewinner. And who steals chickens anyway!? I do own some valuables in my house: charms, jewelry, and other various treasures from the mine stored right in my unlocked farmhouse. Nobody would be stupid enough to steal from me.

…Or so I thought.

Most villagers knew there was something different about me, or at least suspected it. And they were right. I'm no ordinary farmer; I'm a farm hero who saved the Harvest Goddess, and her minions. Of course, I get my share of magic knick-knacks to play with. I even have a sword which I call Doom-Bringer for the zombie animals in the mine… and to shoo off door-to-door salesmen.

So that morning as I was tending to my livestock and crops, and after seeing the cheeky note, I decided to do something about the situation. And by doing something, I mean complete overkill, because I don't have time for risks when my precious angels.

I went straight to the Witch Princess, hammering my fists on her door. Five minutes of brutal knocking later, the door creaked open an inch, revealing the Witch Princess' darkened red-purple eyes.

"Jill, what is it now?" She grumbled, not at all ready for the day. She looked dead. Dead tired.

"Some asshole wants to steal Fluffy." _And I'm not letting it happen._

"The Harvest Goddess?"

"She'd just flat out rob me. This guy left a note."

"True…" The Witch Princess agreed, swinging the creaky door back for me to enter her lair.

I followed her to her cauldron, skimming her disorganized notes with my eyes. _She's an interesting individual; a mastermind._

What may look like a room in need of hasty cleanup is actually a complicated, but genius plan for something completely immoral. Her writing is dainty, but blotched ink scribbles, written in an incoherent style. I've never bothered to read a full sentence of her notes. The words I have managed to make out have been things like 'magic wart removal' and 'manservant'.

"Got plans for the Harvest Goddess again?"

"Of course," she smirked, stirring her purple concoction.

"Hmm, well, you wouldn't mind one upping her by helping me, would you? It's not like she helps me out."

 _Please don't blast me, Harvest Goddess, if you're hearing this. Though, I do doubt that you are…_

Our few encounters were more of a 'hi, bye!' meeting. Not much of a conversation. Although I had saved her, she didn't often help me out personally. Her minions helped me, but it wasn't even under her orders.

I wish it was under her orders, because her minions slack… a lot. They're supposed to be Harvest Sprites, but are they really? Sure, they know stuff. But the number of times they've ditched me in the fields is ridiculous. One time, I even tried to pick the lock on the Sprite tree door just to give them a piece of my flaring mind. It's their fault that I beat them at poker seven times. They need to pay up.

The Witch Princess, on the other hand, had been with me since the start. I admit she didn't shovel manure with me, but I was able to at least have a conversation with her without being told 'bye' seconds later. If reasoned with, the Witch Princess could help me out in her own way.

"Well… if you put it that way, I guess I could give you a hand," she settled, raising a finger slyly to her lips. "…But not a word to the villagers. I'm only doing this because it's you."

It was the Witch Princess' fault the Harvest Goddess had been turned to stone. She despised the Harvest Goddess, but she hadn't meant to lose her rivalry. To the Witch Princess, it was entertainment. In the end, she had wanted me to rescue the Harvest Goddess.

"Understood."

The Witch Princess stepped down from her cauldron's ladder, moving along her shelf and browsing for a book.

"Do you know anything about the thief?"

"He calls himself Phantom Skye, and he warns his victims before he steals their belongings."

"I think I know how to help." she said, slipping a weathered book off her packed tight bookshelf, before walking over to me, skillfully half reading the book as she walked.

I have no clue how she managed to do that without face planting over her book piles…

"Thank you."

"No problem. After all, I do owe you one."

"So, what's the plan?" I asked, curious to know what scheme she had cooked up.

"I'll give you some potion to give to your chicken." she concluded, making me cringe.

 _That doesn't sound good… What the hell does she want to do to my baby? Kill it?_

"Oh, don't worry, it won't harm _the chicken_. Did you really think I'd kill it? I've been kind to you thus far…" she laughed, pleased with her reputation. "But then again, I do have a streak, don't I?"

"Oh…ha ha…No, I don't think you'd do that to me. Maybe to someone else, to bother the Harvest Goddess, but we're friends."

"I only do this for friends," she said, throwing the book aside, and scooping ingredients from a table.

"Ah, we're partners in crime sometimes, aren't we?"

I had once accidentally submitted a poisonous mushroom to the Harvest Festival. Nobody died; they only got a bad case of diarrhea. That didn't mean I didn't feel bad about it. I cracked and confessed to my good buddy the Witch Princess, who only laughed and patted me on the back. Now that I think about it, she probably wasn't the best person to confess to…

"Yeah, my partner in crime…" she agreed, stirring up her brew at the cauldron, "The potion should be ready in a few hours and will need some work. I like talking to you, but…"

"I understand. I'll be back in the evening."

"Okay… bye."

"See you later!"

I spent the rest of the afternoon organizing a mob, starting with Vesta, the other farmer owner of the valley. She didn't raise livestock, but she was headstrong enough to help me fuel a mob of angry villagers, trailing me as we marched down the streets, yelling and handing out pitchforks. Phantom Skye was apparently a common threat, so it didn't take long to have an angry mob gathered around the coop that housed Fluffy.

I, of course, had to part from the mob to slip off to the Witch Princess' house. Telling the villagers I had some last minute watering to do, I ran off before anyone got the chance to offer to help. Not that they would anyway. They came to capture/possibly mutilate a thief, not water my enormous garden.

My fists beat on the Witch Princess' door as I huffed, heartbeat not yet calmed. As per usual, it took a full five minutes for her to actually come to the door. This time, she didn't bother to peek her eye out, swinging the door straight open, as she was (I think) waiting for my arrival.

"Right on time," she smirked, holding out a vial of cranberry colored liquid. I would not admit that it looked a bit like blood. My dear Fluffy will not become a vampire chicken.

"So, I just give it to her? What will it do?"

"Yes. As for the affects, I'll leave it as a surprise. You'll be pleased with the results. It'll get him good… That, I'm sure of," she assured, admiring the vial proudly.

"Thanks for doing this," I replied, taking the vial as she handed it to me. I put it deep in my rucksack and gave it a reassuring pat.

"Like I said, no problem."

"Well, I'd best be on my way. I wouldn't want all your hard work to be for nothing."

"You'd better."

"Bye!" I cried taking off running, so as not to miss the thief.

"Bye. Make sure to tell me the results~"

"I will~"

And I made it, as usual, to the site of my upcoming attempted robbery. I refuse to think that he'll succeed.

As soon as I panted up the hill, cheeks flushed from the autumn air, Vesta grabbed my shoulders, enraged.

"He's here! He stole my vegetables a week ago, but he's _not_ striking again!" She declared, giving me a slight shake, to emphasize the point.

"Please, calm down! We'll catch him," Celia begged from behind her. But she had a glint of determination in her eyes. She was also eager to catch the culprit.

"Yes, we will! He laid a hand on my precious crops. He ain't getting Fluffy, too!" Vesta cried, hefting her pitchfork, which she had rested on the ground.

"That's the spirit!" I half-cheered, not sure if I should encourage her behavior or not.

With that, Vesta stomped up to rally the mob, preparing to hunt him down throughout the farm area.

As for me, I had to give the vial to Fluffy, so I raced off to my coop, grabbing a wooden plank from the lumber shed on my way. Blasting through the coop door, causing a rain of feathers, I got straight to work at barricading the coop, harshly nailing the plank across the door, as if a zombie apocalypse was coming.

I then gently made Fluffy guzzle down her 'fruit punch,' and held her on my lap in the middle of the coop, sword at its hilt, ready for action.

The thief took his time, it being a full hour before he finally arrived to abduct Fluffy. For a while, I thought Vesta might have turned him into a shish-kabob with her pitch fork, howling a battle cry as the thief gazed up at her like a fish. But I also thought Vesta might have been delusional out of her rage, and flipped out over seeing one of my animal's shadows. To this day, I have no sweet clue how he got in. There was an angry _mob_ scouring my farmland for him; not to mention I barricaded the door. He slunk out of the shadows like a cat, walking over to me smugly.

 _Looks like he didn't get skewered after all…_

"Why, hello, fair maiden," he greeted, brushing a lock of long silver hair out of his eyes.

"How did you get in?" I demanded, clutching Fluffy to my chest. "You picked the wrong farm to try and rob…"

"That's a secret, fair maiden. Don't be so angry. You wouldn't want your beauty to fade," he came off as a bit of a creeper, speaking to me, _flattering me_ , as if he wasn't trying to rob me. Never the less, I was still flattered to be spoken to like a princess. He was a smooth talker; a champion at it to be exact.

I admit to have blushed like a schoolgirl that day. It did put a damper on my badass, farmer pride.

"I'm serious, bro."

"Ah, well that's too bad. I would have enjoyed spending some time with such a lovely face."

"Yeah, too bad you want to rob me." _And stop it with the creepy lines!_

"Hmm… well, about that… CHICK-BEAM… FIRE!"

My favorite part about our first encounter was that he had said something so utterly ridiculous. I didn't like not being able to move my body, but I had to wrestle to stuff back the giggle I held in my throat over his silly spell.

He reached for Fluffy, about to snatch her from my paralyzed arms.

"Not Fluffy! Not my baby!" I cried, staring him straight in his ice blue eyes. I had worked too hard raising this chicken. It might be years before I'd be able to have Fluffy II.

"Very well then, I'll just get another one…" he settled, picking up a chicken named Georgia.

I wasn't about to tell him that Georgia was recently bought, and not at all one of my prizewinners. It sucked to have the chicken that I bought with my hard earned gold plucked out of my grasp, but it was better Georgia than Fluffy. Georgia, I barely even knew yet. Fluffy I had raised since birth. Yet I couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit sad that the bird would be going off with a thief. I didn't know at the time all that much about Phantom Skye.

"Well, it was nice spending time with a fair maiden such as you, but it's time for me to go now…"

And then he slunk into the shadows (no idea how he got out), and was off, fleeing the scene.

I looked down at Fluffy, smiling, as my movement soon returned. I squeezed her into a hug, not caring that my poor dear smelled like you guessed it… crap.

My smile faded when I saw that Fluffy's beady little chicken eyes had turned blood red, seemingly possessed.

"Oh, sweet Harvest Goddess."

As I ran around the coop, chased by my possessed chicken, I grew an immense dislike for the sly thief.

"Curse you!"

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A/N: So, how was it? This story will have an ending. I swear on my soul. Reviews are love. :3


	2. Anger Management

A/N: Hello again! And here is the next chapter...

Thanks to Mnemah and Mryyh for the wonderful reviews!

Disclaimer: I own squat.

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I have always prided myself on being a patient individual… when it counts. One who rarely, unless in the case of a decent cause as Jill would put it, 'flips out.' If somebody pisses me off, I think that's excuse enough.

Despite my looks, I'm hundreds of years old, but there are some things I find just too damn irritating. Rude awakenings are one of those things. Unfortunately, no matter how many times I tell Jill, she always comes to my door early, way too happy and screaming at the top of her lungs for me to get my lazy behind out of bed.

Usually, I would wait a few minutes to see if she would go away and bother me later so I can sleep some more, but this morning, things were different. Jill's voice didn't screech with her usual enthusiasm, making me worry.

I may be considered horrid by many, but I do care about some people. Notably, my close friend Jill. For the most part, I hate people with their cheery do-gooder faces and overly serious natures. If I'm going to live forever, I'm going to have some fun with my infinite life, thank you very much. Call me antisocial, but humans can be such literal bores.

 _Forgive me, Jill. You're in no way a bore._ I think the Harvest King needs to add another member to us immortals.

 _I don't know how the Harvest Goddess got in…_ Curse her cheery soul.

I couldn't drift through the world without companions. No matter how hard I tried, someone would come knocking on my door, screeching me out of bed. Jill holds a special place in my wicked heart. She's like a monkey; annoying but lovable.

A friend so adored could not be ignored, so even though I was still in my scarlet nightgown and my hair looked almost as bad as the day the Harvest Goddess decided to create a hurricane just for me back in the day, I opened the door. You heard it, I opened it. People should be proud of me.

"This had better be good," I warned, still groggy from sleep.

Jill stood in the same outfit she had worn last evening, a blue and white shirt with a gray skirt and blue pants, all with numerous rips, tears and dirt smudges. Countless white feathers were entwined in her unusually undone brunette pony tail.

"Oh, it is," Jill assured. "Can I come in?"

"I'm up, so you might as well," I let her in and motioned to my bed with a sweep of my arm. "Take a seat."

Jill obeyed, flinging herself onto my bed like the little rascal she is.

I stood in front of her like a sergeant and ordered her to spill.

"The attempted robbery wasn't an attempted robbery," Jill sulked.

"So, the thief stole Fluffy…?"

I am plain disappointed with myself. My work is something I take great pride in, even if it is more often than not mischievous in its objective. And that potion had taken me hours to complete. Not to mention, I had really wanted to help Jill.

"No… not Fluffy. But he did succeed in stealing a chicken. Georgia to be exact."

"Hmm… He's a sly one. Tell me, how did he manage to get past the mob, my potion, and you of all people…?" Please tell me how he managed to get though the entire village chanting and raising torches and pitchforks, a murderous chicken, and the girl who managed to befriend me.

"I'm not sure of how he got past the mob… I have _no clue_ how he got past the mob. But he… he used some sort of spell on me… How he learned it, I don't know."

In order to use magic without the use of an item, the Harvest King has to give the ability to you. To even use a magic item like Jill, the Harvest King or an approved underling has to give the thumbs up.

The Harvest King is a real killjoy… Sometimes he pops up to scold me for my actions, or even messes with me by threatening to burn my books. If he's really angry, he'll snap his fingers, make a book flare, and watch me suffer. In my opinion, out of the immortal trio, he's the most evil of us all.

"From a witch's standpoint, I don't know of anyone other than that infuriating Harvest Goddess and her servants who can use magic. I'm curious to know how he even has the ability to use it… But what about my potion? What went wrong with that?"

"It worked on me instead of him."

"Oh… Heh… Heh… Sorry…"

"It's alright, but please warn me if you're going to turn my chicken into a psychopathic killer for five hours." _Oops..._

"So, it _did_ work!" I beamed, but then realized that Jill wouldn't be pleased with that response. "Though, sorry…"

"Again, it's alright. I would have loved for Fluffy to go all mine-zombie, freak-chicken on his ass. Let's see if he can freeze that with his silly spell!"

"I doubt he would," I laughed. "So, what did you do after he escaped… and after Fluffy mauled you?"

"I fell asleep on the floor of my chicken coop. I know, gross. And when I woke up, I went all angry lumberjack on my peach tree… But now _I'm_ _even more frustrated_ , because _I_ _murdered my peach tree_."

"Don't feel bad about that… Peaches are disgusting anyway."

"Now there's a slight cut in my pathetically small pay check. Do you know how cheap Mayor Thomas is? I swear that man doesn't pay me enough. I mean, all of my hard work, and I still can't build my farm out of golden lumber!"

 _I can see how that would go..._ The villagers would probably be like: 'So that's where all my taxes went!' _But I don't pay taxes... or at least, nobody can make me._ Good luck with that.

"Jill, you sly girl… I like the way you think. Though, I still say to hell with the peaches… Those things should not exist. I've begged the Harvest King to let me burn them all… He said no… But cheer up. I can help you with that frustration of yours."

"How?"

"Take that teddy bear next to you; the one with the ear torn off."

"Ah, okay," she said, doing as I suggested.

I walked across the room, grabbing a rather sharp knife off of my cluttered desk, walking back, and holding it out to Jill with a mischievous smile.

"Have fun."

"You want me to…" Jill started, unsure as she took the knife in her hands.

"Slash the stuffing out of that teddy bear… You heard me."

"It isn't one of your vintage ones, is it?"

"No, I found it in the mansion's trash last Tuesday… Have fun with it."

Jill did have quite a lot of fun with it. In fact, I think she had too much fun. The rage on her face was both entertaining, and disturbing at the same time, as she made a fluffy murderous mess on my floor.

When she started screeching, I almost dropped the book I was reading about how to perform a temporary reverse exorcism on somebody, but I didn't stop her. If there was one thing I had learned over my years of being an immortal, sometimes you just have to go to an empty field in the middle of nowhere, what was once assumed to be the edge of the world, or your friend's house and scream.

Out of the goodness of my dark, twisted heart, I chose to shield my neighbor's ears by casting a spell, mostly to keep them from bothering Jill, but I don't want them bothering me either.

 _Humans… Humans and their petty laws…_ I am not, as the neighbors often accuse, 'disturbing the peace' with my chants. They're disturbing _my peace_ by sending useless policemen to my door. I don't know how they don't get that. You'd think after the first three policemen came back thinking they were chickens, people would get the message. The law can't control me.

Jill only stopped mutilating the teddy bear when it couldn't be slashed at anymore, meaning it was torn apart in too small of pieces to actually slash at it even more.

I slowly clapped my hands in congratulations, proud and amused with Jill's display.

"So… how are you feeling?"

"Now I feel like a bottomless pit of empty."

 _Humans… Humans and their fluctuating emotions…_

"Oh… that's not good…" I'm not so good with the whole 'comforting' thing. Not that I don't try. I'm just not the most emotionally in touch person.

Jill grumbled and frowned in dissatisfaction, before curling up on the floor with her head on her knees.

"Ah… Jill… What do you want me to do?"

"Can… I have a hug, please…?"

 _Silly humans and their need to make me feel awkward…_

I walked over slowly, not sure if I should even bother or not, knelt down and awkwardly hugged her.

"I'm not doing this often…"

"Okay," Jill half-laughed. Only she would have the nerve.

"And you're doing a favor for me…" I pressed, standing up and brushing myself off.

My house hasn't been dusted in a while… I should probably clean before the Harvest King decides to have another bonfire night… I'll never hear the end of it from the Harvest Goddess. _Damn her_ …

"Okay…" I bet she's cringing inside, thinking I'm going to force her to join in on my schemes. She's so fun to mess with…

"I want you to find out more about that thief… He's interesting… I know I'm not a 'good' immortal according to the Harvest King's standards… He's such a complete annoyance… But I find it strange that a thief of all people would be given the ability to use magic."

My case is different, much different. I didn't ask for my powers… Jill knows that. Not that I'd ever want them gone. One summer many years ago is proof. It was so agonizingly hot that I used my powers to make it snow... a lot. Sure, I was stopped, but it was so worth that one day of bliss when I got to watch the world think the next ice age was coming.

"I'll give it a go. Besides, I've got some ass to kick. _Nobody steals my babies_."

"That's the spirit… Have no mercy."

" _Oh, I won't_."

"Tell him I said hi…"

"I will!"

"I'll hold you to it."

"Well, I have to go for now. I still haven't yet done my chores… But tonight, I'm finding him."

She will, too, even if it takes her all night. The amount of times I've found her passed out is ridiculous. She's getting a mouthful if I find her passed out like a log again. I might force her to be my lab rat for a while if she pulls that on me. _Humans… Humans and their recklessness…_

Jill left, but not before I warned her not to overexert herself.

When I turned around after closing the door behind Jill, I unfortunately was not left to scheme in peace.

Guess who decided to pay yours truly a visit?

"Child, how many times have I told you to clean this mess up?"

Looks like we're having another dysfunctional, adoptive, immortal family bonfire…

 _Oh… for the love of…_

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A/N: How's everyone liking the Witch Princess? She'll probably be the most reoccurring supporting character, because she's so fun to write. Skye and Jill will get most of the POV's since it's their story. Reviews are love. Please tell me what you think. :3


	3. Three Crimes Comitted

A/N: I'm back again!

Shout outs to Mryhh and the other guest reviewer(s).

Disclaimer: I own squat.

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Forget-Me-Not Valley is a place of mystery, particularly concerning its connection with the Harvest Goddess, passed down from generation to generation through folklore. While mysteries have always intrigued me, I didn't know that I would become one of those mysteries.

It all started one fateful night last summer. Crops had been reaped, jewelry snatched, hearts stolen… things were going great.

I was on my way back from robbing a petty, book-filled shack. On the cluttered shelves, I found a rather appealing handmade cookbook called _How to Make Curry and Not Die_ by an individual with the quirky penname 'Witch Princess.' I hadn't left a note beforehand, because the nearby mansion had been my original target that night. The shack was a pit stop in which to hide. Nobody was home, and nobody dared to enter the sketchy shed. That was my last robbery before I decided to head home.

It was in the middle of town that I got hit by… _a huge sparkly meteor._

The great ball of doom came at me with no mercy, zipping through the air like a loose grand finale firework.

I didn't even get to run or shout… The green mass hit me straight in the chest, knocking me back onto the hard brick road. I lay there dumbly gazing at the stars for a good five minutes as a barn owl seemed to mock me. Not wanting to be caught by raging villagers, I hazily dusted myself off and headed home to get a good, daily sleep. I thought I was sleep deprived…

Over the next few days, despite my first instinct to believe I had dreamt up the event, things got even stranger. When I was almost caught thieving, I floated to the roof unseen. Seven women almost dropped dead at the sight of me. And last of all… the strangest; I ran into a couple of angry village women carrying pitchforks, and my favourite comic book catch phrase actually worked. I had hoped to catch them off guard as a last minute strategy, but I truly didn't mean to freeze them. I am now 'The Ladyz Man' incarnate.

While I found my newfound powers entertaining and useful, I still wanted to know where in the universe that meteor came from.

My best hope for answers was the Harvest Goddess who supposedly made the valley her home… but no matter how many times I pled at her pond, I got no answers.

Jill's uniqueness led me to believe she must have some connection to the Harvest Goddess. I know because I've heard some pretty otherworldly stuff about her. As I passed from city to city, town to town, I would hear rumours about mutant crops, teleportation, and zombie, mine animal slaying. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the tiniest bit curious to how the hell she managed to be the craziest jack of all trades the world has ever seen. She's a puzzle of a girl.

Thus, I decided to keep an eye on her, and trailed her each night, hoping to witness some sort of indicator to prove her link.

One night, about a week ago, I saw her bickering with the night air instead of harvesting her half-reaped pumpkin field. It was questionable behavior indeed…

My conclusion was she was a madwoman, not a servant of the Harvest Goddess. My time I could have used to scour old texts for clues was wasted.

When she muttered 'lazy, rainbow, dunce cap wearing dunces...' under her breath, as she unknowingly passed my hiding spot in the nearby poison ivy bush, I even considered leaving a polite note on the local doctor's door, anonymously explaining that his neighborhood farmer had lost her mind.

While I cringed in pain on my bed in the early morning, itching and scratching all over, I did some thinking. _Dunce caps… Rainbows… Weren't the Harvest Sprites in folklore supposed to wear colourful clothing and pointy hats…?_

I wasn't wrong about my suspicions after all.

Getting her to help me was the issue. I couldn't just approach her in broad daylight, and my reputation would prevent her from helping me. What can I say? I'm a thief… Unfortunately, most people hate my handsome guts if they're smart enough, and Jill happened to be one of those people.

I decided that blackmail was the best way to go.

Second thoughts about my choice of thievery arose when the damn chicken bit me, _me_ , _Phantom Skye._ _How dare it?!_

As for where I kept the ratchet being (which I have now deemed worse than the turkey that tried to eat me when I was five), it is staying at my current home. 'Current' as in I don't stay in one place for too long. My home, if it can even be called that, is an abandoned stable hidden among the trees along the road that connects the valley to Mineral Town.

It is in this stuffy old shack where I reside with my new 'pet.' I keep the little demon tied to a post on the other side of the stable across from my makeshift bed, of which was just wads of hay with a sheet stretched over top of it. Sure, I'm talented at thieving, but I steal what I need… most of the time.

Usually, I'm perfectly okay with my living conditions. Hay isn't the most comfortable bedding, but I'm used to its irritating nature. It was my hostage that kept me awake throughout the day. I guess not all creatures are nocturnal… Georgia must have had free run of the place back home, because she is one noisy bird. I would be kinder, but if I let her have free run, she'd most likely peck my eyes out while I'm sleeping.

Not wanting to spend any more time than needed with Jill's unruly chicken, I left for my nightly walk around the valley.

…At least, I was _going_ to have a peaceful walk.

I snuck past Vesta's farm as per usual, but the most beautiful maiden, Jill, was on the bridge, staring me down with her flaming lavender eyes. She made the bridge look like the gate to hell. Jill was pissed off like a momma bear, and I had 'borrowed' her cub.

"I've been searching all over for you! Where's Georgia?!" She demanded, pointing her sharpened sword at me. Yet another reason why she's not a normal farmer.

She's awfully headstrong to be searching for me when she looks like she could drop dead at any moment. Her work clothing was ruffled from a hard day, there was a dirt smudge along the edge of her cheekbone, and her ponytail looked about to fall apart. Jill, it seemed, was used to early mornings and early nights, as expected of a farmer. It was far past the end of her day, as indicated by her sleepy eyes.

"Seeking me out? She's safe with me. Don't look so angry, princess. It'll take away from your beauty," I replied coolly. "I'd put the sword down."

"I'm not concerned about my beauty," she stated, stabbing her sword into the wooden bridge, likely skewering some poor fish below. "I'm concerned about Georgia… and if you refuse to give her back willingly, then I swear I will find a way to get her back."

"How do you plan on doing that?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I'll figure out something eventually," she declared, glaring at me like I was stealing one of her most prized possessions. _Oh wait, I think I have. My bad…_

"I'll tell you what… you tell me your secret, and I'll return your chicken."

"That's child abduction, and her name is Georgia." _More like Hell Spawn…_

"Don't worry, fair maiden, I'll take good care of her." _By nudging her dishes over with a ten foot pole…_

"That's not the problem. The problem is that Georgia is mine, _mine_. Georgia is not your baby… She's _mine_ ," Jill pressed, clenching her fists at her sides.

"And yours she will be… Just tell me what I've asked," I sighed. Honestly, it wasn't my intention to upset Jill.

"…If I do… choose to tell you… will you return Georgia to me?" she spoke with hesitation.

"I will, princess."

"Well, I _can't_ tell you. Would you stop it with the blackmail?" Jill denied, conflicted with her options. I had her, and she knew it. She just didn't want to admit her defeat.

 _Such a stubborn girl…_

"It's not blackmail. We're making a deal," I countered, not believing my words personally. Truthfully, I know what I'm doing is morally wrong... but I also think it's a matter of perception. I'm simply doing what I can to get what I want.

"If I told you, there would be no point. If I tell you, all is lost," Jill dramatized, suddenly having an interest in her grubby farmer shoes.

"How so?" Would Jill be turned into a colourful, dunce cap wearing minion, living out the rest of her days doing nothing but the Goddesses' bidding? Or would she simply be blasted like I was, but instead become fried farmer?

"I could never show my face in public again," Jill sighed, letting out a huff. She really didn't want to tell me.

"Don't worry, your face is beautiful. I'll always find it more beautiful than the stars." _Smooth one, Skye…_

"You… How _dare_ you choose to play with my emotions after you stole my precious baby?"

 _Oops… My bad…_

"Don't be angry. Pretty faces shouldn't be angry," I chided, leaning against the railing of the bridge.

Jill skillfully hopped up on the railing next to me.

"Bullshit," Jill deadpanned, glaring down at me with her usually non-existent height leverage.

"Not at all… So, are you going to tell me?"

"Fine… I'm the one who poisoned the food at the last Harvest Festival," Jill confessed, solemnly looking over the bridge, both ashamed and embarrassed with her actions. "I swear it was an accident."

"Your secret is safe with me, but that was not the secret I was asking about," I chuckled, now having more potent, blackmail material.

"Are you kidding me?!" she hollered, prompting me to put a hand over her mouth, to which she muffled incoherent babbles into my palm.

 _We can't have that crazy woman with the pitchfork out here… She'll come out in a blind rage and kill us all._

"I'm afraid not. To be more specific, what is your relation to the Harvest Goddess?" I specified, removing my hand from her mouth, and wiping it on my pant leg.

"Oh… you meant _that_. I don't know why I'm able to do what I do… But if you're so curious to know, I can explain it to you, but not tonight… I'm tired," Jill laughed, her anger turning into amusement.

It can't be forgotten that dear Jill is sleep deprived, and she's probably feeling hazy. With a yelp, she slipped and well backwards. I grasped her outreached arms, preventing her from plunging into the abyss.

"I can wait. You look tired… You should take better care of yourself…" I lectured, pulling her back up so she was sitting on the railing once again.

"W-when will I get my chicken back?" Jill stuttered, blushing in embarrassment. _How cute…_

"When my answers are given… Like I said, don't worry your pretty face; I'll take care of her."

"And don't you worry your blackmailing ass. I'll make sure you keep that promise," Jill smirked, choosing to play along.

"Remember to keep yours. As for where we'll meet, I'm sure you'll be able to find me, just like you have today… Until next time, princess…" I spoke softly as I passed her, continuing my midnight stroll.

"Oh, and Skye…"

I turned my head to Jill who had for some reason found the ground more appealing than my face.

"What is it, fair maiden?" I inquired, leaves crunching under my feet as I walked back to her.

"The Witch Princess says 'hi,'" Jill stated, lifting her head to look me straight in the eyes, her smirk becoming mischievous.

"Tell your friend that her curry recipe was delicious," _It really was…_ I should have left a half-mocking thank you note after all.

Jill stared at me blankly before giggling. Her amusement was only amplified by her lack of sleep.

"You're so screwed…" she choked, trying to catch her breath.

 _Oh, am I?_

I smirked. "We'll see about that…"

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you found this chapter entertaining. As for how I'm writing this, I like to stay as close to the games as possible... but if there are holes to fill, I'm going to have fun with it. As for the question... the Witch Princess is very pensive. Her thoughts can be scrambled. At least, that's what I've inferred from her character. She's also not exactly the most socially inclined individual. It was all completely intentional. Reviews are love. Please tell me what you think. :3


	4. Add Another to the List

A/N: Thank you to anyone who reviewed, followed, or gave me a favorite!

* * *

My baby needs rescuing, but I don't want to give Skye top secret information and piss off the Harvest King. Last time he got mad… we don't speak of that around the goddess or her minions. They're still terrified over that 'other world' the big bad Harvest King sent them to. Apparently, it involved hell. I'm not sure if they were exaggerating or not…

After getting my ass kicked at blackjack, I walked the short distance from the sprite tree to the Harvest Goddess' pond for a nice chat about thieves and such. I strolled along the appearing-to-be-empty path, scanning for anyone hidden from my view. If anybody sees me talking to the air, they'll think I'm crazy.

 _Wouldn't want stalkers after me…_

When I arrived at the spring, I shrugged my rucksack off my shoulder, making it land with a 'plunk.' I then sat on my knees along the edge, and scooped five fresh, thankfully-not-squished strawberries out of my rucksack and plunged them into the clear water.

Hopefully, it will make up for the news I'm about to tell her. As the Harvest Goddess, she already has plenty on her plate.

The Harvest Goddess was on cue, appearing above the pond along with a glowing mass of blue sparkly matter swirling around her, indicating her godly status.

"Oh, hello, Jill… Thank you for the offering. I love it! What brings you here?" the goddess greeted, beaming in response to her favorite offering.

"I've got some bad news… and some bad news. What one would you like to hear first?" I bombed, gazing up at her casually, holding my chin up with my palm, my arm resting on my leg.

I'm used to witnessing such otherworldly beings. It's a wonder I haven't gone insane… but Skye might make me. He really knows how to make someone want to throw a hissy fit. I even had to go out in the middle of one of my crop fields and scream. Only one person saw me. It was Gustafa. He said I need to find my inner harmony, but I think it's way too late for that.

"…Get on with it," the goddess grumbled, not appreciating the work she assumed I was about to throw her way.

"I met this thief dude. He stole my chicken, and now he's blackmailing me for info on my relation to you." _Please don't blast me…_

"I don't mean to be rude, but I'm a very busy goddess," she explained with a sigh. "My boss is so mean…"

"So I can tell the thief what he wants to get my chicken back?" I asked, making sure I wouldn't become a lightning rod anytime soon.

"Sure. I just can't help you find him… If that's all, bye!" the goddess chirped, the flickering lights starting to reform.

"Wait!" I called out urgently.

"What…?" she questioned, the glitter dimming along with her smile.

"The thief dude had magic." _And it's both irritating and amusing at the same time…_

"What?" the goddess spoke, voice rising slightly. Her face shifted into a look of surprise for a moment before regaining her composure.

"The thief dude had magic," I repeated.

"Oh," she remarked, before letting out a somewhat uneasy string of laughter. "Well, that's interesting. I'll be off. Bye!" The goddess turbo sparkled out of there, leaving a grumpy, puzzled me on the grass, dumbly staring at where she used to be.

I lazily stood up and brushed myself off, pouting slightly at my newly grass-stained blue jeans. Though, I guess it can't be helped. As a farmer (a kickass farmer to be exact), my clothes never stay unscathed for long. I often come back from the mines looking like the Witch Princess after she screws a spell up; singed, but delighted to see the light once again.

Well, I guess I might as well go home and take a quick nap before tracking down 'Mr. Imma Steal Your Chicken.' I don't expect Skye to come to the valley until at least midnight. It's only ten in the evening. Last night, I didn't catch him until one in the morning.

As I wasn't feeling like hauling my tired self home on my own two legs, I dug my teleport stone out of my rucksack, grasping it firmly in both my hands and holding it to my chest. I wisely closed my eyes to avoid seeing myself rip through space, break every law of physics, and end up with vertigo.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself outside my farmhouse door. A note with familiar penmanship had been pasted at the center. I ripped it off, skimming the note for any trace of my least favorite person ever: Skye.

 _Dear Jill,_

 _I'll be away for a while. Not sure when I'll be back. My books were in danger, so I dumped my spare copies in your bathtub. Also, you need to lock your door. Wouldn't want anyone breaking and entering…_

 _Kind regards,_

 _Witch Princess_

I'm not upset over the Witch Princess breaking into my home. I do trust her, even if she is the most mischievous person ever.

…Actually, scratch that. She probably booby trapped my house for kicks. Now, I'm having second thoughts about entering my own home. _What sort of thing is going to jump out at me, I wonder?_ The kids who went trick-or-treating last Pumpkin Festival never even made it to the Witch Princess' door.

Opening my door, I found that the Witch Princess had not so surprisingly left the lights on. She's very cunning, but in a way that makes her forgetful. Having a mind on constant overdrive, even if it is for twisted reasons, would do that to anyone.

I gave a huff, sliding my rucksack off my tired shoulders by the doorway before closing the door behind me.

A nice hot bath would be delightful right now. If I had known my bathtub would become the Witch Princess' new storage bin, I would have made a stop by the hot springs. _I guess I might as well teleport there…_

I turned towards the door, planning on teleporting once outside.

"It's rude to leave when you have a guest, princess," a familiar voice chided.

Startled, I whirled around, snapping my head towards the direction of the voice; my kitchen.

Silvery white hair?

Check.

Ice blue eyes?

Check.

Cocky smirk?

Check.

Ability to sky rocket my inner fury?

Double check.

The ultimate asshole has invaded _my_ home, and is cooking curry in _my_ kitchen, with _my_ ingredients sprawled over _my_ countertop. He's chopping red grass with _my_ cooking utensils.

"What do you think you're doing?!" I snapped, more out of frustration than surprise. Skye has already blackmailed and stolen from me. I don't appreciate strangers entering my home without my permission. "If you didn't already know this, breaking and entering is a crime."

"The door was unlocked. There was no 'breaking' involved," Skye retorted, still casually chopping away at the grass. "Besides, I thought I'd save your pretty self the trouble of finding me."

"Yeah, but you didn't have my permission. It's pretty much the same thing," I corrected, my arms crossed stubbornly. I walked the short distance to my kitchen, examining his work.

"Hmm… Tell me, beautiful, do you like curry?" he asked, momentarily putting the knife down.

"Love it, but that's beside the point," I countered. Honestly, I find the notion of someone cooking curry for me appealing. There's less work for me, and I get to eat one of my favorite dishes. The last thing I ate was a raw yam. It tasted exactly like it sounds; gross. The problem with Skye cooking curry for me is one, I don't trust him. Two, he is cooking with _poisonous red grass_.

Skye smirked, continuing to work on chopping the grass once again. "I thought so. You have all the best ingredients."

 _And all the ingredients to kill a man…_

"Yeah, I make kick-ass curry, but that's still not the point," I urged, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Look, I'll talk to you, answer your questions, but I'd rather you _not_ raid my kitchen without my permission."

"So, can I…?" Skye questioned.

"No!" I exclaimed forcefully. While I love to have an excuse to not cook; something I rarely I have the time to do anyway, I have to go with my gut. My gut says Skye is someone who should not be trusted, even if he does treat me like a princess minus the criminal offenses.

"That's a shame…" he sighed, laying my knife on the cutting board once again. "It would have been nice to enjoy curry with such a beautiful face…"

"I didn't say we couldn't have curry. Sorry, but _red curry_ isn't something I would ever let somebody I just met cook for me," I reasoned, sliding the cutting board over to me before finishing chopping the grass expertly.

"I didn't think of that, but I have to say I'm a bit offended," he scoffed, for once looking more displeased than carefree.

Not that I cared all that much about him being displeased. I inwardly laughed at my success at finally bruising his overblown ego.

"Yeah, yeah… Sorry…" I mumbled, picking up the cutting board and scraping an appropriate amount of red grass into the mixing bowl that Skye had laid out. Peering in the bowl, I discovered that Skye had already added the other ingredients, saving me the trouble. "I was offended when you _stole my chicken, blackmailed me, and broke into my house._ "

"…I apologize. It was the only way to figure out what happened to me. I assumed you must have heard of my reputation." He may have apologized, but the look on his face says he doesn't regret it at all and is planning on kidnapping my cow next week.

As I stirred the mixture, momentarily taking my attention away from Skye (something I rarely would ever do), I contemplated. Despite his calm expression, I couldn't help but feel a tinge, _a tinge_ of sympathy. I may not be the gentlest person on this planet, but I have a heart. Though, I did remind myself that Skye is a ruthless bastard and wants me to think that way.

I poured the mixture into the pot Skye had boiling on the stove, covering it. "To be honest, no, I didn't know. You could have asked me, and I would have willingly helped you out… But I'll accept your apology. Just don't pull anymore stunts like this, okay…?"

"I promise I will never break into your house again unless I have a good reason to do so," Skye spoke slyly, partially disregarding my plea.

"Someone had better be dying if you break into my house again. Just in case, the first aid kit is in the cabinet above the toilet. " _Please let it not be because you murdered somebody…_

Skye smirked. "Don't worry, princess, I don't plan on robbing _you_ again... Maybe your heart… That's it."

I clutched my heart, responding with both denial and bemusement. "You're not getting it."

"We'll see about that," he said confidently. "On another note, what about your secret? The one involving the Harvest Goddess?"

"Well, like I said, I don't know why I can do what I do. I guess I have a gift of sorts… No, I don't have powers like you do, but I can use magic items… and see both the Harvest Sprites and the Harvest Goddess."

"…About the Harvest Goddess, do you know anything concerning the meteor last summer?" He asked, intrigued with my response.

"Yes, that was wicked amazing. I think I have a picture of it flying through the air in one of my books…" I replied before realizing that I hadn't answered his question. "I was with the Harvest Goddess when I saw it, so I don't think it had anything to do with her. Maybe the Harvest King…? He could have had another temper tantrum."

"Do you have any relation to the Harvest King?" Skye pushed, eager for answers to his problem. For that, I couldn't blame him.

"Besides the time he got after me for being a lazy bum, no," I declined, switching the burner off and placing the pot on an unheated burner to cool. "And talking to him would be suicide. Not to mention, I have no way to contact him. The Harvest Goddess or the Witch Princess would have to… but it would take _a lot_ of convincing to get them to do _that_."

The Harvest King is, to put it simply, a massive control freak with severe anger issues. It's a lot worse than it sounds. I may have only met the guy once, but every time the Witch Princess brings him up, it involves something horrid, like 'Medusa role play' or 'electrifying straitjackets.' He may be the Witch Princess' biggest role model in terms of destruction, but he… is a giant prick.

… _PLEASE DON'T BLAST ME!_

"Our best choice of action…" I continued, sliding two clunky, chicken themed plates out of my cupboard, "is to ask the Harvest Goddess. We can go-"

Three hurried knocks pelted my door.

* * *

A/N: So, how was it? I'm evil. I know. Cliff-hanger! But… I didn't want to make this chapter overly long. As for planning, I know what I'm doing in terms of plot. Believe me when I say I've got plenty up my sleeves, so stay tuned!

Reviews are love. :3


	5. The Actually Welcome Visitor

A/N: I'm back! Thanks to Himeno Kazehito for reviewing the last chapter, and all who followed or gave me a favourite!

* * *

After clanking my held plates on the countertop, I grabbed Skye by the arm, pulling him towards my bathroom door.

"Stay put. Don't steal the books, or you're screwed," I whispered, shoving him into the bathroom. "And don't think I'll be able to bail you out if the Witch Princess comes for you."

I may have some influence over her, being her friend and all, but the Witch Princess plays by her own rules. Considering what he has done to me, I don't think she'd be so generous.

Skye stumbled from the force of my frantic push, almost falling backwards.

Despite my possibly intentional roughness, Skye only frowned at me. "Whatever you say, beautiful."

"Be quiet." I hushed, slamming the door behind him. The walls shook from the force, reminding me of the time I was having a pleasant dream about winning the lottery and the Harvest King had to burst my bubble… and send the Harvest Goddess and her minions to hell.

I don't regret becoming a farmer. Not now at least… It's actually a very fulfilling career. I get to snuggle with baby sheep, kick ass, and defy reality. If that doesn't define the best career in the world, I don't know what is.

Another few knocks were heard, more urgent than the last. I wonder if this is what the Witch Princess deals with when I come over for a morning visit… Maybe I'll lay off and limit my morning visits to after eight a.m. She can't possibly sleep in later than that…

"Coming… coming…" I muttered, pacing to the door.

When I swung the creaky door open, I was greeted by an uneasy looking Muffy. She had obviously come for a reason. Nobody comes to my house for 'just a visit.' My only visitors either come super early in the morning, or sometimes in the evening, when I'm often placing my shipments. I'm so busy, I even forget to eat sometimes. Trying to find me would be a wild goose chase, because I could be _anywhere_ in the valley.

"Hey," I greeted with a smile. "What's up?" _Hopefully nothing bad…_

Muffy returned my smile. "Hi, Jill. Sorry to bother you. I know you're busy and all… I've been working at the bar." She giggled. "You know how that is."

There have been numerous incidents at The Blue Bar that are both shameful to the perpetrator and hilarious to the rest. I'm not above being the laughing stock, but Muffy always has my back. Last week, she saved me from eating an artificial grape. I'm usually the last one drunk, if I'm even drunk at all. I have too many responsibilities to waste the next day in bed due to a hangover.

"I'm not busy. Come on in." Skye can wait. It'll be good for him; reflecting on his actions. That is, if he's even doing it. He has no shame whatsoever. "I made curry, if you'd like some." There's enough to go around. With the amount of curry Skye planned on making, you'd think he was preparing for a dinner party.

Muffy entered the porch, shutting the door behind her. "I'll have to pass this time. My shift isn't over yet, so I'm afraid I have to head back soon." Her boss, Griffin, likely knows. He's a very understanding individual. As long as she's back soon, he wouldn't mind if she left to catch me for something urgent.

"I'm assuming something urgent happened… Do you need my help with something?" I asked, knowing Muffy had probably come for a reason.

The question is pointless. I'm certain she needs my help with something. When people need help with something, they usually come to me. I don't complain. It's my job to be the ultimate jack-of-all-trades. They repay me by dragging my tired ass back home. Everybody's a winner.

"Actually, I do," she confirmed, tucking a blonde, curled strand behind her ear subconsciously. "It's a bit of a… personal matter."

"Want to sit?" I asked, gesturing to the carved, wooden dining table.

We did, quietly accepting the conversation to come.

There are many differences between Muffy and I. She's a city girl who never has a hair out of place. I'm a warrior of the wilderness who has never stepped a foot inside a city. But when it comes to relationships, we are the same. Neither of us has had any luck with romance.

Mine are due to there being _nobody to date,_ or at least, nobody I'm interested in dating. My current available options are a chicken-napping pretty boy, an archeologist over twice my age, and another guy who is at least twice my age. Everybody else is married. There's a reason why I don't date.

For Muffy… things are much more complicated. She has _terrible luck_. Once, she showed up for a date and the guy wanted to take a picture of her teeth. On the bright side, she gets to go to the dentist for free because her teeth are 'as radiant as the sun.' They don't date due to his obvious obsession, but at least something good came out of it.

Muffy sighed. "How should I start…? You see, my parents decided to play matchmaker again…"

Muffy's parents, for some unknown reason, think she should get married. The situation isn't a surprise. It _did_ happen once before. She loves her parents, just not their obsession with her love life. They tend to take things too far. Like _way_ too far. They even invited her to go to church with them, and it ended up being her own arranged marriage ceremony. She did the smart thing and booked it as soon as her relatives tried to force her into a wedding dress.

"Uh-huh," I said, urging her to continue.

"And they've set me up with the _mayor of Mineral Town_." Muffy declared, eyes narrowing in anger. "They've set up the date and everything!"

 _Oh dear…_

I gave her a look of sympathy. "Oh, I'll take care of it alright. When's your date?"

"Autumn 12th, at a restaurant in town." _Crap._ I can't crash the date. The harvest stalkers won't let me leave the valley.

It's a well-known fact that I'm a busy bee. The situation is rather ironic, because while I'm the busy one, other people are always the ones telling me I'm busy; not myself.

"I'll do something. Don't worry about it," I assured.

Muffy sighed. "But _what_ do you plan on doing, Jill?"

"He takes care of my shipments. I'm sure I can crash the date before it even starts…" I smirked, standing up from my chair. "In fact, I'll do it tonight."

Muffy seemed perplexed, giving me a look of confusion.

"I have his number," I spoke, walking casually towards the awkwardly placed end table, which held my clunky, turquoise phone. "Though, if you don't want me to do it, just say the word. It's probably better if you call, anyway…"

Muffy pushed her chair out, turning to the side to face me and reaching out to grab the wired phone. "You don't have to do this for me…" She grabbed the phone from me with sudden boldness. "I'll do it."

I grinned proudly. "Okay. He won't be home, so you'll have to leave a message."

She nodded, dialing the number.

When she was finished leaving her message, she handed the phone back to me, beaming. "Thank you, Jill." She looked again at my old, hardwood floor before looking up again. "To be honest, I thought I would be brutally embarrassed, but now that it's done, all I can feel is relief."

I put the phone back, returning her smile. "I try. It's my job after all; helping people."

"You're a farmer. While I appreciate your help, you're also the busiest person I know. You should take a break every once and a while. It's not good for your heath, you know," Muffy nagged out of concern, before raising a red fingernail to her lips. "Perhaps I should bring you to town sometime…"

"I appreciate th-"

There was a holler from the bathroom, then a string of curse words. For once, Skye didn't sound princely. He sounded like a normal person; not someone who steals chickens and blackmails people. I was almost proud of him… _almost_.

"Jill… Do you have a guy over?" Muffy asked with a tinge of awkwardness in her voice. "I can leave if you'd like…" She made a grab for the red purse by her leg.

I would have thought the same if I was in Muffy's shoes. We may not be as close as the Witch Princess and I, but we know each other well enough for her to know I don't have any relatives, or at least any male relatives. The only one I know of is a great aunt in the city who thinks my name is Bertha. (I only met her once. She was so happy to see me, I didn't bother correcting her.) She also wouldn't recognize Skye's voice. In our small town, we know everyone.

At that very moment, I wanted to strangle Skye with my bare hands, maybe even set my ducks on him. I wanted to run him over with a tractor, skewer him Vesta style, and curse his pretty boy name. But I couldn't, because I don't want to be charged with murder.

Instead, I smiled sweetly, hoping to cover my fury. "No… It's not what you think."

But Muffy was already by the door, ready to twist the knob. "It's okay. You don't have to explain," Muffy returned my smile. "Just be careful, alright? Stay safe. I'll see you tomorrow, if you're free."

The door closed before I could answer.

Not a second passed before I roared. " _SKYE!_ GET YOUR PRETTY BOY ASS OUT HERE!"

I stomped over to the bathroom, swinging open the bathroom door. If he wasn't going to hurry up, I was going to come to him… and possibly commit a crime myself, if he had driven me any farther into insanity.

However, my fury quelled as soon as I opened the door. It froze in a sudden stop, slowly being replaced by terror. My impatience was a curse, sure to doom me at some point. I shouldn't have been so brash. If only I had waited, I could have avoided my current situation.

I will say right now that running into Skye's chest is like running into a brick wall of awkward. Now that I think about it, I should have just punched him in the gut with all my farmer fury.

But I didn't, because at that moment, I felt a strange resemblance between my chickens and I.

Slowly, I tilted my head up to look at him, not sure if I should or not.

Looks are not always intimidating. Not when someone is peppered quite heavily with silver sparkles. His pretty, demon in disguise, angel face resembled a pre-schooler's art project. Personally, I thought it reflected his overinflated ego; he's so full of himself, he shines like a diamond.

 _Thank you, Witch Princess. Long may you live._

"Wow, Skye. Did a unicorn throw up on you?" I scoffed, all traces of fear instantly fading.

"No," he grumbled, unamused, "but your sink did."

I beamed up at him, stifling a laugh. "I love my sink."

He smirked in return. "More than me, fair maiden?"

 _You're lucky I haven't killed you yet._

"Of course," I replied, remembering to take a step back. "That sink just made my day."

"…Or was it seeing my face that made your day?"

"I'm going to meet you in the middle and say both," I settled, not wanting to start another battle of the wits. "Anyways, I think we should get you hosed off… The Harvest Goddess might get offended." _Or laugh. She'd probably laugh._

Skye pouted. "Don't you have a shower…? A tub maybe…?"

"It's currently the Witch Princess' new storage." I reminded, too tired to haul her personal library somewhere else. "The garden hose will have to do… or would you rather the duck pond?"

 _Please choose the duck pond. I can hit two birds with one stone there._

"I'll go with the garden hose." _Damn it!_

"Good choice," I lied, careful not to show my true feelings. "Well… This way, I suppose."

I was about to lead Skye outside, hose him off, and be on my merry way, but something stopped me, or rather, _someone_. Reaching the kitchen, Skye grabbed my hand, forcing me to a stop.

I turned towards him with a questioning look. "What?"

Skye had his face to the side, hiding his expression. He had a hand over his mouth in an attempt not to laugh. "It seems like your friend left you something."

On my dining table was none other than a handful of condoms.

"Can we ignore this…?" I grumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up. "If not, I swear on my life, I will murder you."

He chuckled. "As you wish, princess."

* * *

A/N: I hope I've got Muffy down. I tried to portray her as somewhat more mature than Jill. In terms of character ages, I think Muffy would be a few years older. Jill would be in her late teens or early twenties. Next chapter will be Skye's. Again, this story is planned out. I'll continue writing it until I finish.

Please review! Reviews are love. :3


	6. God Complex

A/N: Thank you to all who have reviewed, followed, or favorited this story! I greatly appreciate the support.

Disclaimer: I own squat.

* * *

I should have chosen the duck pond. Not only am I frigidly cold, but Jill seems to enjoy hearing me suffer. She giggles by the door, as I suffer from the wrath of her garden hose, hosing myself down by the adjacent wall.

"If it's _that_ bad, feel free to jump in the watering hole," Jill scoffed, waiting for me to finish. "… _Or_ the duck pond... I'd choose the duck pond."

"Relax, fair maiden. No need to be concerned about me," I assured, knowing full well Jill was hiding something. She's clever, but she's undeniably terrible at hiding her dislike towards me.

Rinsing the last of the 'unicorn barf,' as Jill insists on calling it, out of my silver hair, I reached towards the tap, twisting the small, green wheel with a squeak. Out of all things for the Witch Princess to make spew out of the sink, it had to be _silver_ sparkles. It's pitch black out now. Jill and I could have headed out earlier, if not for the unfortunate shade of glitter the witch had chosen.

"Finally done…?" Jill asked, stretching her arm out as to hand me a rainbow patterned, floral towel from the edge of the house. Like me, she had noticed how late it was. "We have to catch the Harvest Goddess before it gets too late. The last thing I need is for her to go all Medusa on me. The Witch Princess would start an all-out war."

"Yes," I answered, gently taking the towel from her hands. "Oh, and I can't help but add, princess, any war would be worth it over you." She could be my Helen of Troy.

Jill didn't let it drop, stubbornly but humorously babbling on. My only accomplishment was a faint blush; a signal that she was growing accustomed to my flattery. "Humanity would become extinct like the dinosaurs due to one jumbo, flaming meteor cracking open the earth like an egg... _And then_ , all the really hot, lava stuff would spew everywhere… and turn everybody into burnt French fries."

I chuckled. "That's an interesting way of putting it."

" _Then_ , the Harvest King would kill _them_ off, and go play blackjack or something… I bet he loves blackjack," Jill continued, her face darkening.

"Do you like blackjack?" I questioned in hopes of keeping her good mood going.

" _Hell no,"_ she denied strongly. "It's the worst."

I couldn't help but laugh as I came into her view, having dried off and dressed back into my clothes. There wasn't much I could do other than shake them off, so they're still shiny. It's not like Jill has any clothes that would fit me.

"What are you laughing at?" Jill asked, tone undeniably serious. Though, her lavender eyes held her amusement. "Blackjack is an atrocious card game," she added, as if it was solid evidence for a court case.

"It's nothing, princess. You're just so pretty when you're happy." It's true. She's outright terrifying when she's angry; not cute. Her eyes seem to burn like an angry, purple forest fire. But when she's happy, they light up like lavender flamed candles. Jill's easy to read in that sense.

Her expression softened only for a moment, before her eyes flared warningly. "Wow, Skye. For once, you actually sounded like you meant it. I'm flattered."

I froze for a moment, surprised with myself. Jill was actually right. Flattery from me is normal, but it isn't normal for me to actually speak what I mean, and actually mean it. _What can I say…?_ I'm a compulsive flatterer.

"Of course I meant it," I defended with a frown.

"Yeah, yeah," Jill dismissed. "Sure you did. Anyways, we have to go." She knelt down and picked up a round, wicker basket by her feet, lifting it with relative ease.

The basket likely contained our curry beneath the red checkered cloth covering its contents. Jill must have brought it out while I was busy wrestling with the garden hose. (She had it set on high pressure. Whether or not it was to spite me, I don't know.)

Jill headed towards the exit of the farm, and I, not wanting to miss my chance at talking to the Harvest Goddess, followed. By the dark circles under her eyes, I could tell she hadn't been getting enough sleep. It's my fault, but what can I say…? I _do_ enjoy her company.

It's rather unfortunate that she hates my guts.

I caught up to Jill's speedy pace with non-existent ease. You'd think being exhausted would slow her down, but that was _not_ the case. She should sign up for Olympic speed walking.

Jill doesn't like me very much. I guess she has no reason to… but I doubt things will stay that way for long. She isn't immune to my charms. Then we can part ways without me worrying if she's going to hunt me down with the other villagers. If anybody can do that, it would be Jill.

I trailed shortly behind the grudge-holding girl, only a few steps behind her. To my embarrassment, she was a meter ahead of me by the time we entered the spring area.

"Sorry for the brisk pace… In all honesty, a drowsy Goddess is better than a cranky one," she huffed, as we approached the spring. "She's kind, but I warn you… She _can_ fry us."

"It's alright," I coughed. "Princess."

Jill smirked mischievously before plunking down on the grass, placing the basket next to her. She patted the ground, indicating for me to sit.

I did as she wished, siting criss-cross beside her.

The Goddess Pond has an almost eerie, mystical feel to it. Every time I come here, it's like that. I've never been uncertain of the Goddess' presence when I've been there. It's impossible with how the pond glimmers in the moonlight, and nature never ceases around it.

Jill's kind of like it, too; mysterious, but welcoming. I'm happy to join her little bubble of misfits. I just want to know more about the bubble I've been thrown into.

"Well," Jill spoke, before yawning. "I guess we'd better get the meet and greet over with…"

She reached into the basket, pulling the cloth across. Jill dug out a spoon, cracking one of the thermos covers open, and shoveling out a heaping spoonful. She then did the unthinkable, and flung the wad of rice into the pond with a skilled flick of her wrist.

"You shouldn't waste perfectly good curry," I lectured. "Was there a bug on it?"

"No," she denied, eyebrow raised. "I wouldn't have killed it if there was. Just wait." Not only is she completely unafraid of filth, but her love of living things extends to even insects.

Slowly, blue, glowing dots gathered, forming into… a floating person. My thoughts stopped in their tracks, all my attention going to the appearing Goddess.

"What's up?" Jill chirped, a grin forming on her face. "How do you like your offering?"

The Goddess frowned in displeasure. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't give this to me anymore."

 _Rude._

"Yeah, sorry," Jill apologized, remaining sincere despite the Goddess' ungratefulness. "I'll give you something better next time."

"Well, child," the Goddess started. "You must have come here for something."

"You're right," I joined, finally drawing the Goddess' attention.

The Goddess' eyes narrowed. "Are you… the thief Jill mentioned? You are, aren't you…? I should punish you for your crimes."

"Please do," Jill added immediately.

"Please don't," I argued in response to Jill's heartlessness. _How could she be so cruel?!_

The Goddess laughed. "And here I thought you'd finally found a love interest, like I suggested."

" _Oh no_ ," Jill dramatized. "I guess I'll be forever alone with only my farm animals to keep me company, like an old, cat lady variant."

"Aw, don't say that, beautiful," I chided her with a seductive smile. "A pretty girl like you wouldn't have a problem."

The Goddess raised a finger to her lips and closed her eyes in thought. "I'll tell you what…"

"What?" Jill asked, gazing up at her curiously.

"Not you, Jill," the Goddess corrected. She opened her blue eyes, and turned her gaze towards me. "The 'thief dude' you spoke of."

Jill smirked at the Goddess' words. "Okay, I'll shut up."

There's a sense of amiability between them, despite the Goddess' immortal status. Considering the V.I.P. status of the group of magical misfits, they all must know each other well… and I'm the newbie.

"I suppose I'm the 'thief dude,'" I concluded.

"That, you are," The Goddess confirmed. She eyed me seriously, as if deciding my fate. "I can't just let you abduct farm animals. It's my responsibility as the Harvest Goddess to watch over this valley. You'll have to pay for your crimes before I offer my help."

"I'm the Prince of the Stars. I could make you my queen." _Good one, Skye…_

Jill stared at me, bug-eyed. "Skye, please don't tell me you have a god complex…"

 _Ha, I'm fantastic!_

The Harvest Goddess radiates loveliness, but something tells me if I spend too much time with her, I might die. I'd honestly rather make Jill my queen. I can at least stop _her_ if she decides to lop my head off. Any more time with the Goddess, and I fear I might become one of those burnt French fries Jill was talking about.

A heavy blush crossed the Goddess' cheeks. "No, no, don't be silly! I simply want you to carry out some errands for me. That's all!"

I chuckled at my success. "Of course, beautiful."

The Goddess flushed again at my remark. "Good. It's great to know I can trust you to perform the task. I want you to make up for your wrongdoings through offerings. I'll appear when I see fit to tell you your debt has been payed off. Until then, if it's my help you want, I won't help you."

"I'm sorry, but I have to say something," Jill interrupted, pointing a finger at me. "You absolutely cannot trust him."

"If he wants help, he has no other choice." The Goddess turned her attention to me. "I'm counting on you… uh… What's your name, again?"

I frowned in annoyance. "Phantom Skye, the Prince of the Stars."

"What a cute name!" The Goddess gushed. "Well as usual, I have work to do. Bye!"

With a flicker of blue sparkles, she was gone in an instant.

 _Rude._

As beautiful as the Goddess is, she doesn't seem to have much patience for others.

"Don't take offense," Jill said, noticing my apparent bitterness. "She does it all the time. If you get to know her, you'll find that she's actually a nice person."

I couldn't help but smile at Jill's good-heartedness. She may not see me in the best light, but deep down, I'm sure she doesn't want to feed me to her ducks. (Yes, I caught on to her possible ulterior motive.)

"I'm sure you're right, princess," I agreed.

"It's for your own good. You'll be dealing with her," Jill reached into the basket, pulling out one of the metal thermoses, and holding it out to me.

I took it and cracked the lid open, enjoying the smell of curry. Surviving off of the pitchfork lady's crops is alright, but it gets old.

Jill handed me a fork, before drawing the cloth back across the basket.

"You aren't going to eat, princess?" I asked, before taking a bite of the curry.

Jill got up, taking the basket with her. "I'm tired. It's been a long day for me. I'd like to head home and relax… Oh, and you owe me my chicken."

"Sweet dreams, fair maiden. I'll deliver it tomorrow. May your dreams be as beautiful as you are."

"You'd better," Jill warned. "Oh, and you can keep the thermos. I'd prefer if you didn't break into my house again."

 _I actually just walked in._

"You should keep your door locked, princess," I chided. Jill may carry her sword around with her, but if she isn't home, somebody might booby trap her house again… or cook curry in her kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah," she started walking down the dirt path. "I'll keep my door locked _now_. See ya."

"Goodnight, princess," I repeated.

Watching Jill walk away, I wondered if I would ever see the strange girl again. Then I came to the conclusion that I would. There are other ways to see Jill other than breaking into her house…

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A/N: So how was it? I absolutely love writing Skye. He cracks me up. Writing a princely asshole is so much fun. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. As for the next chapter, the Witch Princess will make her return. But it's a necessary shift which I'll only do when necessary.

Reviews are love. :3

To anonymous reviewer: I do like that line… I'll keep it in mind. It may pop up sometime in the future. Who knows? Thanks for the review!


	7. Tea Parties and Arson

A/N: Wow, this one's a bit longer than usual.

Thanks to all who have supported this story so far!

Disclaimer: Harvest Moon is not mine.

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"You really should learn some table manners," my arch nemesis, otherwise known as the Harvest Goddess lectured, giving me a snooty look from across the tea table. She raised her silver fork to her mouth, holding up a piece of her slice of crumbly, chocolate cake with a 'holier than thou' attitude.

 _Ugh! She thinks she's so high and mighty! I'll show her!_

"Oh, yeah?" I spoke, raising my voice ever so slightly. Just hearing her voice is enough to fuel my rage. "I don't care."

I continued to eat my slice of chocolate cake with my hands just to spite her. Furthermore, I ate it sloppily, making sure to smudge my face like a human toddler.

When we are forced to visit the Harvest King at Mount Moon, there is no avoiding our spats. So of course, in a serene, grassy field halfway up the mountain, sipping tea together for the sake of our immortal, adoptive family, we can't get along.

Maybe it's because we've known each other for so long. Neither of us can pinpoint how old we are. All I know is that at some point, we had a disagreement, and that disagreement turned into another one, and so on. We don't even remember what the original disagreement was about.

 _Whatever…_ I hate her guts, and she hates mine. We're both content with leaving it that way. Besides, she's my source of entertainment; the victim of my worst pranks. Without her, I'd be bored out of my mind. Pranking Jill is fun, but because I actually like her somewhat, I refrain from preforming my harshest pranks on her. In regards to her busy lifestyle, I don't do it often either.

Jill never gets as mad as the Harvest Goddess, and I don't exactly want to rile her up. Jill's raw determination is her greatest weapon. The time I started a water balloon fight with her actually proved to be a challenge. Of course, I still won, but I was as drenched as she was. I'll give her that.

The Harvest Goddess is somehow lazier than me. She lacks Jill's killer determination, and my killer genius. The Goddess _always_ has an excuse not to do something. I've never seen her actually work. With all her 'harvest servants,' I doubt she has to. The Harvest King was right when he scolded her for 'doting on the job in her old age.'

 _I_ at least, do my job myself, even if I'm lazy when it comes to everything else. It's not like I can trust anyone else to know how to prepare a potion for making a chicken think it's a vampire, or how to instantly make peach trees wither. Other than sleep, my work is my life.

But the Goddess isn't herself today. If she was, she would have surely bit back. That's the pattern of our arguments; they escalate until an outside party breaks it up. The role typically falls to either Jill, the sprites, or in the worst case scenario, the Harvest King. But strangely, none of them are needed this time around.

The Goddess only rolled her eyes at me, and continued to eat her cake like I'm only a bumble bee instead of a wasp. _How dare she treat me in such a way!_

"Hey," I snapped, before wiping my face with the back of my sleeve. "What's wrong with you? Aren't you going to say something?"

The Goddess sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. I felt like hurling my cake at her, regardless of the fact that I made it myself. It would be well worth it to see her face twist into pure anger.

"The cake's good," she complimented half-heartedly.

 _What…?!_

"Uh, thanks…?" I said awkwardly.

There was something up… and it made me frustrated. Receiving compliments from my arch nemesis is highly unusual, and should not, under any circumstance, happen. That's just not how our relationship works. I should be her worst problem; not some wacko villager who got a bit too crazy with the fireworks, or an unruly teen who decided that it was somehow possible to make a milkshake by tipping a cow. (Never mind that last one. As soon as Jill hears the startled 'moo,' somebody gets their ass kicked.)

We continued to eat in silence, but while she was able to ignore me, I couldn't ignore her. _How can she sit there, and ignore the presence of her lifelong rival?!_

Eventually, I had enough. I couldn't take her silence anymore.

"Just spill it already!" I hollered, bolting up from my seat and smacking my hands on the table. The dishes rattled from the force. Included was the Goddess' tea cup, which dropped right on her lap.

The Goddess yelped, before jolting up and smacking her hands on the table as well. Her usually bright eyes lost their light, dimming as her anger settled in. "Spill it?! You just _spilled tea_ on me!"

"It's your own damn fault for having it so close the edge!" I barked, staring the Goddess down. "Tell me who your new rival is! Who do I have to fight?!"

Nobody is taking my place.

Nope.

No, thank you.

Without a rival, I'll be all alone with my thoughts, and that's terrifying. There's nothing more terrifying to me than boredom, and Jill's too busy to visit any more than she already does.

"Oh, you're my rival alright!" The Goddess yelled, still angry with me. "If you want to fight, fight me!"

"Bring it!" I rebuked, summoning an army of teddy bear soldiers, armed with pitchforks. They're all a replica of my prized stuffed toy, Captain Cuddlekins, the one-eyed, patched up warrior.

In response, the air surrounding the goddess began to glow a bright, electric blue.

" _ENOUGH! SETTLE DOWN, OR I'LL THROW YOU BOTH IN THE OTHER WORLD!"_ The Harvest King boomed from the top of Mount Moon. He caused a multitude of boulders to fall from the mountain, crashing on the ground around the Goddess and me.

The Goddess and I promptly cancelled our spells.

"CAN YOU THOW THE GODDESS IN THERE ANYWAY?!" I hollered over. I knew he wouldn't do it, but riling the Goddess up is too much fun.

There was a pause before he responded. " _AS MUCH AS I'D LOVE TO REPLACE HER, NO!"_

"WHAT ABOUT HER?! SHE SHOULD GET A TURN THERE, TOO!" The Goddess copied. "SHE'S THE ONE WHO _REALLY_ DESERVES IT!"

" _I KEEP HER AROUND TO KEEP YOU ON YOUR TOES!"_ The Harvest King explained forcefully.

"SHE CAUSES NOTHING BUT TROUBLE!" The Goddess screeched.

" _THAT'S THE POINT; MORE WORK FOR YOU!"_

It sucks to be the Harvest Goddess, now doesn't it? I do my job flawlessly. In other words, I succeed in causing the Goddess trouble; trouble she has to fix herself. Without me, she'd be sipping martinis all day.

I couldn't help but smile to myself. While the Goddess continued to gaze angrily at the mountains, I sat back down, and chose to enjoy my cake contently.

She trembled with rage, and clenched her fists at her sides. "WHY YOU-"

" _DO YOU WANT ME TO FULLFIL HER WISH?!"_

The Goddess didn't respond.

" _GOOD. NOW EAT YOUR CAKE AND BE HAPPY."_

The Goddess reluctantly sat back down after preforming a small spell to remove the stain on her dress. She daintily picked up her fork, and made a move to put it in her half-eaten slice of cake.

I pulled her plate over to my side, and put _my_ fork in it. "Oh, excuse me. Do you want some of my cake?"

" _WITCH, GIVE THE GODDESS HER CAKE BACK!"_ The Harvest King ordered from up high.

"I MADE IT!" I defended.

" _I HAVE YOUR BOOKS!"_ The Harvest King warned, threatening a book burning.

I paused for a moment before responding. _"_ FAIR ENOUGH!"

Not wanting to pay the price, I slid the cake back over to the smirking Goddess. She stuck her fork in, and ate a piece with a knowing smile.

"Are you happy now?" I sneered, arms crossed.

"Yeah," the Goddess replied. The smile vanished as she prepared to choke out another oddly placed word. "Thanks."

"I don't know why you're treating me so buddy-buddy," I said with displeasure. "But I hope it doesn't become a habit of yours."

"It won't," she assured, casting me a dark glare. "I was just worried about something, and thankful to have my mind off of it."

I smirked mischievously. "Good. It had better stay that way. The one you should be worried about is _me_."

"You'll be sorry one of these days," she predicted.

I cackled like the Witch I am, before looking her dead in the eyes. "It's not like I'm going to the other world anytime soon."

That did it.

"WHAT DID YOU-" the Goddess started, bolting up from her seat once again.

The Harvest King wasn't about to let us have our spat. " _SILENCE!"_

In response, I casually got up from my seat. "Let's call it a day," I yawned. Jill had woken me up far too early _again_. "I look forward to making your life... hell."

I promptly left the fuming Goddess on my broomstick before she could start another blow-up. Though, I could still hear the Goddess shrieking in the distance.

When I was far, far away from the Harvest King's mountain, I could still hear the godly spat that ensued between the Harvest King and the Harvest Goddess. I wouldn't be surprised if the villagers heard it. The Harvest God's deep, echoing voice almost shook the air around me.

Out of all things I trouble the Goddess with, there's one fact that irritates her most; the Harvest King is still harsh towards me, but at least he never sent me to hell.

Not that I'm certain it _was_ hell. The Harvest Sprites are always overly dramatic. It's the same with the Harvest Goddess. She can make the biggest fuss over me simply putting one, measly weed in her pond. I don't see why that's littering. Weeds are organic.

And speaking of making someone's life hell… there's another individual on my hit list.

I don't easily forgive those who threaten people I actually find the place in my stone cold heart to care about. Jill's thief has it coming to him, no matter how much I admire his skill.

As I reached the valley, swooping among the clouds as to not be seen, I scoured it for nighttime wanderers. The thief, as far as I know, makes his move at night.

A fleck of moving silver caught my eye. It was heading towards a run-down stable that was threatening to collapse.

I've seen all of the valley's residents, and I know where they all live, even if they don't know me. It's important for me to know, so I don't get caught. It's likely the man is the thief. In fact, I know he is. I've known about his little hiding place for quite some time now. I've just never had anything against him, and I've just recently had the time to deal with his recent folly.

I swooped down to get a better look. As long as he didn't look up, I'd remain unseen.

 _Bingo._

It's him.

 _Should I turn him into a frog…?_

No, Jill might think it too harsh.

 _Should I appear just to spook him…?_

No, that's too light of a punishment for someone who made my normally cheerful friend resort to shredding a teddy bear. (Under my recommendation, but she seemed like she needed it.)

 _Oh! I know!_

After I get Jill's chicken out, I'll burn the stable down.

It's unsafe to live in anyway. Storms are frequent in the valley. Once a blizzard hits this winter, it's going to tumble to the ground like a stack of firewood. In a way, I'm doing him a favor. It's plain to see that the thief will become a pancake this winter if I don't interfere.

Giddy with delight, I hid myself in the clouds, before speeding towards the stable. I only had so much time before he arrived home.

I flew in through the open, circular, top window, and lowered myself gently to the dirty, hay covered floor. Landing skillfully on my feet, I surveyed the area for Jill's chicken. A panicked clucking noise directed me to the back corner where it was tied on like a dog to a post.

I cringed at the creature, wondering how Jill could care for something so dirty… and violent. It pecked at my woolen boots, and reeked of, well… if you don't give an animal a bath, it's going to stink.

Swearing that Jill had better make it up to me, I muttered a quick spell to calm the chicken and held the filthy thing to my chest. Noting the somewhat frigid night air, I pulled the creature under my shawl.

I picked my broom up off the floor at the center of the stable, and left up in the air, passing through the window I had entered by.

A wave of panic hit me as I heard the thief making his way through the surrounding trees, veering off the path and heading towards the stable. Clutching the chicken so it wouldn't fall off with one hand and my other on the broom, I zipped into the cover of the clouds and waited for the right moment to strike. I casted a hasty cloaking spell to be on the safe side.

When the thief exited the barrage of bushes and trees, I made my move. Extending my hand out and facing it towards the clouded stable, I muttered the furious sounding fire spell.

The thief seemed to hear me, as he looked up with a confused expression on his face that clearly asked 'Is the sky death metal screaming...?'

His confusion was replaced with pure horror when the sky threw up a ball of fire as big as an exercise ball. It landed right on top of the stable, smashing and burning it to smithereens in a matter of seconds.

As for me, I went off to take a well-deserved nap.

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A/N: Arson is bad guys. The Witch Princess shows a bit of her dark side in this chapter. She's not always the most morally attached individual, even if she isn't completely evil… She did have good intentions.

Reviews are love. :3


	8. Sincerely Sinister

A/N: So... I'm not dead. School has been keeping me busy, and it is dreadful. Though, I promise you will see the end of this story. I refuse to abandon it. It's too fun to write.

Thank you to all who followed, reviewed, or gave this story a favourite!

* * *

" _You what?!"_ I exclaimed, clenching my fists at my sides. I stared menacingly at my dropped field work, glaring at a dirt-covered yam as if _it_ had just committed arson.

The Witch Princess smiled in glee. "You should have seen it! _His face!"_ She let out a hysterical giggle. "Oh, Jill…! He got what he deserved… And you're welcome. I should get out more."

I can't even take her shopping.

"You've committed _arson."_

"I think we've covered that," the Witch rolled her eyes, "Look… maybe it was a bit harsh, but-"

I threw my hands in the air, as if begging the brutal Harvest King to give me a break already. She isn't _my_ punishment. "You burned his house down!"

"Oh, stop it already!" she snapped. "Let me explain before I regret saving his life."

We exchanged heated glares, half-expecting the other to crack. Reason prevented me from losing my temper, though I told myself that her reason had better be good. Arguments with the Witch Princess never end well. I usually lose… _usually._

"Alright," I growled. "Shoot."

 _This should be interesting…_

The Witch Princess let out a heavy sigh. "If I didn't burn down his hideout, he would have died. You haven't seen his stable... That flimsy thing wouldn't have survived another winter. You know how the winters here are…" she gazed off into the nearby, glimmering river, not wanting to meet my gaze, but not seeming to be backing out anytime soon. I know her. She's thinking of how to manipulate me into seeing what she wants.

I won't. She can't make me.

I met her pondering gaze before directing it at my feet. I don't want to fight, but I know that sometimes, the Witch Princess needs to learn her lesson. "I'm sure there are other ways to deal with the issue. Burning his house down seems a bit extreme."

 _Didn't your mother tell you not to play with matches?_

The Witch Princess scowled and muttered something incoherent under her breath.

"What was that?" I asked.

"…Oh, don't be silly!" My reaction seemed to have lifted her mood. "I like you too much to curse you… You're lucky."

"Love you, too, but seriously, please don't burn down any more houses. I'm happy that you've prevented… that asshole from dying, but where is he going to stay this winter? He's a wanted criminal…" _And so are you, I suppose… But I pity the one who tries to turn you in. Their house might not be the only thing set on fire…_

"Alright," the Witch Princess huffed. "You've got me. No more arson." She lifted her shoulders and pointed her finger just inches from my face. "But I demand compensation!"

I smacked her hand away from my face. " _Fine…_ I'll bring you some curry later. Will that do?" There's leftover curry from last night. I might as well make use of that; feed it to someone who will both appreciate it and be worthy of its flavour. Skye does not deserve curry. He deserves a punch in the face. But I suppose arson is a bit harsh… If something of his is going to be set on fire, it should be his gorgeous, silky, unicorn hair.

A crazed look crossed the Witch Princess' face. "…It will."

I rolled my eyes, stomping my shovel into the hard earth.

" _His face!_ " the unholy princess blurted, grinning ear to ear.

" _Arson!"_ I countered, leaving my shovel be and throwing my hands up in the air. "And what if you started a forest fire? You could have turned us all into burnt French fries!"

"Tasty."

It was then that I heard someone to my right awkwardly clear their throat. I had not noticed the presence of the local cyborg and doctor, having slowed to a stop on the path next to me. The strange man wasn't a stranger, but he wasn't someone I visited often. Despite my urge to befriend my fellow villagers, doctors have always given me the creeps. And yes, I know, my best friend just blew up an old stable, made a (controlled?) bonfire in the middle of the forest, and came back thinking it was the funniest thing since I chipped a tooth.

The person who fixed said tooth stood by the giant, riverside harvest flower, narrowing his non-robotic eye. He couldn't see what I saw. (He doesn't believe in fairies.)

"Oh! Hey, Dr. Hardy! How are things?" I greeted, hoping he would avoid the subject of his apparent interest. In my honest opinion, I'm as healthy as a horse. I'm simply working myself to the best of my capabilities. No energy should be wasted. After all, who else can save the remaining Harvest Sprites from the fiery abyss of hell?

"Oh, I'm quite fine," the cyborg assured. "But I'm not sure about _you_. I have every reason to drag you to my clinic right now."

I gave a nervous laugh, before shooting the Witch Princess a panicked glance. She gave me a mocking smirk in return, and a slight, overly irritating wave of her hand. This was her doing. After all, _she_ had nothing to fear. She obviously used an invisibility spell and had _forgotten to tell me._

"I expect some of that curry later…" she informed, snapping her fingers and fleeing the scene.

 _Coward_. _Face me, you crazy arsonist._

I turned my attention to the doctor. "I'm just a bit overworked. That's all."

No, I'm not overworked. Not in my opinion anyway. But whatever prevents the questioning of my sanity will do.

"You seem to do a lot of work these days," the doctor concluded, pulling out a small notebook from his unwrinkled lab coat. "I expect you in for a checkup by the end of the week."

He gave his pen a click, and at that point, I knew some quick thinking was in order. Unfortunately, I am more of a planner. Despite my brash actions ( _They are completely reasonable. Thank you very much_ ), I'm not always the most eloquent person. Sure, I can pull off the occasional white lie, but the guilt will haunt me. There's a reason why I avoid such things. As soon as I started, I knew I was going to fail.

"Sorry," I blurted. "I-I'm much too busy. Ha-ha. You know how it is."

"All the more reason for a checkup, no?"

"I'm sure it's nothing. I've just been super busy lately. A good night's rest should do it." _And no more kidnapping, blackmail, breaking and entering, or arson… please!_

"…Well, I suppose I can't make you…"

 _Yes!_

"But I suppose I can tell the entire village of your exhausted state…"

Something inside me froze, sputtered, and died. "I'll see you by the end of the week."

"Glad we see things eye to eye," the doctor said. His content grin mocked me. "Take care."

"Take… care…"

Sometimes, I think I've kicked the can. But then I realize that it was only my faith in humanity that croaked. It's that, or I'm actually dead. I mean, the average person can't see the sprites trying to dance the Macarena around the sprite tree. Maybe I died and went to hell with the Harvest Goddess?

Who knows?

Not I; nobody ever lets me in on their evil plans. I'm just a simple farmer, carrying the burden of those who decide it's a bright idea to call a bald man 'baldy.' If that sprite was going to insult the Harvest King, he should have just called him 'egghead.' That's much more insulting. Humpty-Dumpty could have never been put back together again after that wrecking ball.

 _Don't blast me!_

And no, I was not sleeping when the Harvest Goddess tried to wake me up three years ago. I was wondering how and why a pack of dwarves and their leader managed to surpass my top notch security system, otherwise known as, me, myself, and I.

I have the Witch Princess to thank. She found it in her kind, yet twisted heart to offer her crude explanation on what the hell happened.

Still, I might just be dead.

If I'm dead, surely my ghostly body can plant in the new field. I had been meaning to do it for a while. The soil behind the waterfall is too rich not to use. It would be perfect for fruit trees. After all, I doubt I could spend any more energy watering crops.

I can hunt Skye down tonight, when he is actually up and wreaking havoc.

But a ghost is a transparent entity, not an opaque one. I'm no ghost.

I'm a kickass farmer.

…who has a bit of a stalker problem on her hands, because so help me, Skye was using my manure pile in the cave-field as a makeshift bed.

There isn't much light in the not-so-pleasant-smelling cave, but I could clearly see his pretty-boy face lulled to sleep by the oh-so-pleasant scent of eau-de-manure by the entryway. As soon as I slipped behind the waterfall, I almost screamed out of pure joy.

But then I remembered something. My best friend just burned his stupid house down. It was indirectly my fault that he passed out, exhausted, on top of a manure pile. And while he was my least favourite person ever, I kind of had to save his sorry ass…

Grudgingly, I poked him in the arm with my grubby work boots. I doubt he even cared what I poked him with. He's the one who mistook manure for dirt.

The princely asshole let out a groan, pulling his arms over his head.

"Wake up," I demanded, kicking him a bit harder to emphasize the point. "The flies are eating you. Buzz-buzz..."

"Buzz off, Hell-Spawn…" he muttered, refusing to open his eyes. His perfectly chiselled nose wrinkled in disgust.

"That was a shitty pun… Ha! Get it?"

Blue-green eyes stared up at me. "Oh… Jill?"

"Garden hose or duck pond?"

Skye rolled off onto the damp cavern floor, wasting no time getting out of bed. His face contorted into a half snarl at his dirtied clothes, before dropping in realization of my words.

"You're helping me?" Surprise was evident in his tone.

"I could be planning on feeding you to my ducks. Quackers was awful hungry this morning. He might want seconds." I finished my joke with a cringe.

He flashed me a sly smile. "...I choose the garden hose. Thanks, beautiful."

"But what about the duck pond…? Do you need swimming lessons…? I'm sure Quackers would love to teach you."

"You're adorable."

I closed my eyes for a good two seconds, before heaving my frustration into a sigh. "You're full of shit… literally as well." That pun was just too beautiful to let be.

For the record, being covered head to toe in dirt is not adorable. I also probably smelled disgusting. So no, I was not adorable. Maybe I wasn't as disgusting as Skye at that moment, but if Muffy saw me, she would scream out of pure terror, and force me to take a two hour bath in the hot springs.

It's not that I can't take a compliment. I can. I just can't take them when an egotistical womanizer throws them at me. Encouragement wouldn't help my situation.

"I meant it that time," he spoke in a steady tone. I'd even go as far as to say he left out the blinding sparkles. Please note that I'm not being sarcastic. I was just taken aback when he didn't smile at me like he was on a toothpaste commercial.

To say it unnerved me would be an understatement. People sometimes remark it when an individual has piercing eyes. Skye's might as well be shooting lasers or maybe chick beams. It suits his silly spell.

Skye's eyes may have held determination, but I was determined as well. I wouldn't be another name he had won over with fancy words and seductive lies. I valued my pride much more than that. Encouraging him…

It would haunt me to my grave.

"Skye," I begged. "I'm covered in dirt from head to toe. I'm not buying it."

 _Give up._

"You really are modest," Skye gave a short chuckle. "I meant your personality. But if you really want to know, I find you to be the most radiant jewel that has ever graced this earth."

To say it was not what I expected would be an understatement. I expected him to continue with another string of flattery for me to beat away, but instead, he spoke with meaning. And although I didn't trust him, I knew sincerity when I saw it. Skye had never seemed so insistent before. I only hoped I hadn't fallen for a trap. After all, I still didn't trust him.

 _Best tread carefully._

"Ah, well," I swirled around with the intention to leave. I told myself that I was not trying to hide my coming blush. It was the chilly fall air. That was all, but I didn't want him to read me. "Come when you see fit. I'll try my best to help you, but don't think anything of it!"

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A/N: Things will get interesting from this point on. I'm finally finished the build-up! Though, I wouldn't worry about the story ending anytime soon. I still have a lot to cover. And it will be fun... very, very fun.


	9. Freeloading with a Side of Cake

A/N: I'm back! Thank you to all who have been reading, giving this story a favourite, following, or leaving a review. I'm sorry I've taken so long. Life has been busy, but this story gives me so much joy. Writing humour is a good stress reliever. Sometimes, I'm cackling while I type.

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Jill pulled out one of her red splintered dining chairs and sat next to me. She didn't meet my eyes. She just placed her china teacup on a farm-themed coaster, and stirred her tea distractingly, letting the spoon clank against the sides.

"I'm going to need you to answer some questions, Skye," Jill started, still clinking her spoon around the sides of the teacup. "I don't have much of a choice but to help you, but first, I need to know if you even need my help. There will be no freeloading here, so you'd best answer honestly."

 _Does she know?_

"Pardon me, princess," I excused, not certain of how she seemed to know so much about my current situation. "But you seem to know that my hideout has been brutally destroyed by an unknown, angry deity. Although I am in debt to you-"

She wasted no time in giving a reply. "You are."

"-I can't say I remember telling you of the event," I finally finished.

Jill stopped her stirring, pausing to rest her jaw on the palm of her hand. Her right elbow rested on the table in forgetfulness of her manners. Though I couldn't exactly say that I cared. It was, after all, _her_ dining table. And who hasn't broken that rule at least once?

"Well," Jill yawned lazily. "Let's just say that 'angry deity' is my best friend."

 _Maybe she won't be too mad at me for letting her chicken die…?_

There was only one individual I could think of, even though I had never met the fellow curry fan. "The Witch Princess…? Surely, there must be some reason for this." As much as I knew Jill wasn't my biggest fan, I doubted she had any interest in arson. Lopping my head off with her legendary sword is more her style.

"She has destructive tendencies. So, err… I'm sorry about your house. Had I known, I would have stopped her."

"It's alright, gorgeous."

"It's not alright. She could have set the whole valley on fire!"

I held back my smile, as she threw her hands up in the air. "…I agree."

"And you would have made one nasty fried chicken. I mean, this is pescatarian country; not cannibal town!"

When I had first journeyed to Mineral Town and Forget-Me-Not Valley, I had discovered a lack of meat on the menu. Apparently, this is because the local farmers are extremely attached to their animals. It's hard to imagine Jill running a slaughterhouse. I can see her, clear as day, barging into the barn of a non-pescatarian farmer and abducting all the animals. That's how much she loves them. She would risk anything to save another, even if it was a chicken.

…She would make a fantastic barnyard burglar. I suppose it's something I admire about Jill. She's a lovely, little chicken whisperer, and it's always been that way.

"Don't worry, love. I would never leave you," I assured, taking a sip of my own piping hot cup of tea.

"Yeah, you'd just freeload off me," Jill scoffed, amused.

 _Ouch._

"Your generosity knows no bounds. How may I repay you?"

"You? Repay me? You're a thief."

 _Correction: I am the prince of the stars._

"I swear to repay you. As my dear princess, you deserve only the best. After all, I am a thief. I can steal whatever you wish…" I paled as I prepared to say my next words. I swear time must have stopped during that moment, and a thousand voices in my head chanted against my tiny scrap of morals. "Fluffy is dead… Let me make it up to you."

Jill can be a terrifying woman. She is a cute, terrifying women, but a terrifying woman none the less. If it wasn't for my powers, she'd be wiping the floor with me, literally like a mop. She knows I love my hair. Why else would I keep it so luxurious and shiny?

Instead of doing some evening cleaning, Jill fell out of her chair. Her brunette hair flew over her face, as her body hit the hardwood floor, scarring me for life. I thought I had killed the vibrant Jill. Without so much as a thought, I sprung from my seat, sending my dining chair rocketing towards the floor.

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me, princess..." I sighed, crouching down and putting a hand on her shoulder.

But she didn't respond. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, as her entire body trembled like a leaf. Her eyes were squeezed shut, refusing to meet mine.

I couldn't leave Jill alone. Not like this.

"Princess," I prodded, giving her shoulder a shake. "Are you alright?"

This time, she responded… with a giggle.

I was at a loss for words.

"She's not dead," Jill spoke between giggles. "I'm sorry. It's just… your _face_."

 _Rude._

I had every right to be at least a bit offended. "What about my face?"

"You looked terrified."

"I thought you were going to kill me."

"That's too light of a punishment," Jill corrected, pushing herself into a sitting position. "I would have done something _much_ worse."

"And what would that be, love?" I purred.

Jill promptly gave my arm a playful smack. "Oh, stop it, you. Now help me up."

I got up, offering my hand. "As you wish, princess."

She grabbed my hand lazily, and I pulled her up. All that laughing had probably taken a portion out of her dwindling energy supply. She may have an insane amount of endurance, but she's still surprisingly human.

Emphasis on surprisingly.

"Thanks." Jill said, as she got back on her feet, a gleeful shimmer in her lavender eyes. For once, Jill didn't have the urge to brutally murder me with an ax. She actually seemed to enjoy my company. Needless to say, I was pleased with myself. Very pleased.

"Anytime, princess." I replied with a wink.

"So," Jill started, sweeping her eyes across the room, before returning her attention to me. A faint blush spread across her cheeks. "I'm afraid I don't have much, but you're welcome to stay here for the night. Although it's not the best, I think I have a mattress you can sleep on."

In comparison to the night before, sleep that night was bliss. Jill's house smelled of wood and pine, lingering elements of its construction, along with the faded scent of leaves; a comforting, homey smell. That, along with the heat wafting through the nearby electric heater, lulled me to sleep.

Jill went to bed before I did, giving me hope that she may in some way or form, trust me. Trust is something that I want but will probably never deserve. _Who in their right mind would trust a wanted criminal?_

Jill, apparently.

I have to say, it's admirable.

Her treatment of guests is also quite touching. I awoke in the afternoon to find a note scrawled across a ripped piece of paper on the kitchen counter:

 _Dear freeloader,_

 _Left for work. Will come by later to pick you up. Help yourself, BUT DON'T YOU DARE TRASH THE KITCHEN._

 _-Jill_

As you might have guessed, I totally trashed the kitchen that day. I'm an aspiring curry chef. The entire counter was coated with the remnants of coloured grass, curry powder, and bits of crushed rice balls. Not to say that I didn't clean up. I did afterwards, even if I was cutting it close. But I'll have to cross my fingers on Jill not noticing that over half her curry powder is gone. Just in case, I baked her a cake.

Everybody loves cake.

…or my cake, that is.

I even caught the witch arsonist putting her finger in the icing when I came back from a bathroom break. She has no shame.

Her punishment was my best death glare. Yes, I glared at a beautiful woman. She deserved it.

However, the Witch Princess is used to such glares. A girl who chants loudly in a shack all day and blows up lovely pieces of architecture gets that a lot. The mage simply hoisted herself onto the newly cleaned countertop and popped one of the cake's strawberries into her mouth, completely ignoring me.

"Hello, gorgeous."

The Witch Princess didn't even lift her head. "You're dead to me."

"Okay," I said uneasily. "Can you maybe... stop eating the cake toppings…? It's for Jill."

"I didn't come here to see you. I came because Jill's coming up the hill right now," she corrected, rolling her eyes. "And I need to get my books out of her bathtub."

I chuckled. "Yes, then maybe Jill can finally stop having to use the garden hose if she wants to take a bath."

"No," the witch murmured, eyes still on the cake. "She never uses her bathtub. The hot springs are much better."

So Jill had been sly. She _had_ wanted to feed me to her ducks, or at the very least soak me with frigid water as payment for my crimes. Now, I wish I had been a bit nicer. Then, maybe Jill would tell me the location of the nearest hot springs. Maybe she'll tell me now.

 _...If she doesn't still hate me._

I really hope she doesn't.

Thankfully, the door creaked open, and Jill welcomed us with a tired sigh. I was spared the wrath of the Witch Princess… though I still thought she'd hunt me down and finish me off later. That woman scares me.

 _Do I have to mention she set my house on fire?!_

Yet I stuffed back my fear and acted swiftly to get on her good side, if she even had one. Plainly speaking, I helped Jill by taking her rucksack from her fatigued shoulder and placed it by her toolbox.

Jill didn't complain, choosing to flop on her bed. A peaceful look crossed her face, as she melted into the comforter.

"Busy day, huh?" the arsonist assumed, finally slipping off the counter. She took up a piece of cake from the unblemished side, and fished a fork out of one of Jill's drawers.

"Mmm… Hmm…" Jill sighed, voice muffled by her downy pillow.

"Get up," the Witch ordered, to which Jill only lifted her head up drearily. She isn't one to take orders, even if it comes from a demon lady. "You have to eat."

Before Jill could even reply, her open mouth was stuffed with a full helping of chocolate cake. She chewed slowly before swallowing and licking her cake-covered lips. "Thanks," she murmured, before shooting the Witch an inquiring gaze. "Where did you learn to bake like that? I thought you hated baking…"

"Oh, dear princess," I sighed. "Of course, I love all forms of cooking. As for where I learned it… I taught myself." I also taught myself the art of breaking into kitchens uninvited, but Jill didn't need to know that.

Suddenly, Jill shot up. She hopped off her bed like a bunny, racing to her fridge with astonishing speed. For the next few seconds, the room was full of the sound of the clanking and shuffling of bottles, cackling, and regret.

"Skye…" Jill glowered. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"No." I lied.

"You sure?" she pressed.

I stood firm. "Positive, my lovely."

"Then why are more than half of my ingredients gone?"

"The sprites could have… You know, that guy that likes eating flour? He probably stuck his head in the bag of flour and is still in there… probably dead by now," the Witch Princess interrupted, having recovered from her laughter, only to start up again due to her own joke.

Jill let out a huff. "Skye, you're being relocated."

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A/N: Well, I'm very excited for next chapter. I'm not about to spoil it, though... Reviews are love. :3


	10. Row, Row, Row, and Die

A/N: I'm back! Did you miss me? I think you guys are going to like this chapter. Thanks to all who gave this story a follow or favourite. I appreciate it!

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The twenty-sixth day of autumn will always be the second best day of my life. This is because it was the day that I both almost died, and discovered something I now treasure. Obviously, the something that I now treasure largely outweighs the troubles of that particular day.

...At least in the present.

I was never happy that day. For the most part, I was fuming with unquelled rage. This was all of course, directed towards the valley's resident playboy, burglar, and possible wizard. The poor guy almost got murdered _for real_ that day.

The fact that I was in such a state did nothing to make my day any easier. My dear, sweet horse decided to ditch me by running halfway across town when I forgot to remember that he was stricken with a lifelong fear of butterflies.

I was also forced to let Dr. Hardy give me a medical exam. Turns out, I had an extreme case of 'air in the head.' I needed to take better care of myself. He even gave me some vitamin gummies. I totally ate half the bottle, and it was a terrible idea. Most of my day was spend booking it to the bathroom, so I wouldn't wet my pants.

Due to the frequent interruptions, I wasn't able to get all my work done. I wasn't able to plant my last crop of potato seeds. Instead, I had to skip it to relocate Skye.

There was no way I was going to let him rob me again. I honestly didn't mind him fixing himself something to eat, but he went beyond that. He had to completely trash my kitchen, stripping it of half its ingredients.

But that wasn't what really enraged me. He could have trashed my kitchen, and gotten away with a well-earned scolding. The fact that he had lied to me is what made my temper soar.

I was offering the guy free room and board. The least he could do would be honest with me. Instead, he let my trust in him burn to a crisp. At the time, it resembled a burnt french fry.

This is why as I was wheelbarrowing him to the docks, I made sure to hit _every_ pothole that gouged its way into the roads. The pile of hardcovers heaped over him served to muffle his curses. The Witch Princess' gleeful laughter trailed behind us, forcing me to shut her up every time she heard one of Skye's curses. Unlike me, she found nothing but amusement in the situation. I felt just about ready to kill the both of them right there and then.

"For the _last_ time, my suffering is _not_ amusing!"

"I'm... s-s-sorry!" the witch choked, before crumbling to the ground for about the fifth time since we had left the house. The look on her face said she was not sorry at all. She was actually having one of the best days of her immortal life.

I know because she told me so a year later.

"Yeah right," I muttered sarcastically, heaving the wheelbarrows' wheel through the stubborn sand before giving up. There was nobody besides us at the beach. As long as we were quick, we wouldn't run into any curious villagers. "Okay, we're here. I'm leaving this wheelbarrow in your questionable hands, Witch Princess."

The witch snorted with poorly contained laughter, before kicking the wheelbarrow to its side. She didn't seem to care that her book collection was full of sand. Skye got a mouthful of it, as he had sworn quite loudly as he fell. The witch was left cackling with laughter on her knees.

Sometimes, she can be kind of mean… in a good way… most of the time.

"Okay, Skye," I muttered, helping said thief up off of the ground. He then ineffectively brushed himself off, not able to defeat the stubborn grains. "To the rowboat!"

On cue, I dragged the cursing man down to the makeshift dock. The dock itself consisted of only a large, oversized log, placed there by an unknown force of nature. Embedded in the sand, it made a convenient dock, that being the very reason why I kept my old rowboat tied to it.

"I hope you like boats." I teased.

"You have a boat?" he asked.

I held out my arms towards the rowboat. "Yep. Hop in."

Sky hopped in quite uncomfortably, awkwardly trying not to slip and make a fool of himself. I followed soon after, pulling the paddles from the dock and pushing us off. Then, I handed the paddles to Skye, sat right across to him, stared him right in the eyes, and told him to start rowing.

He actually listened for once.

About twenty minutes in, I was not at all impressed. For a thief, he had terrible endurance.

"Are we done yet?" He huffed, still rowing diligently.

 _Weak._

"Keep rowing," I ordered with a smirk. "But you can slow down now, speed racer."

"Thank you, princess."

"No problem."

Skye started to look a bit uneasy. "By the way, is it normal for there to be an inch of water at the bottom of the boat…?"

"Totally," I shrugged. "Just make sure you use the tape under your seat if there's a hole or anything."

Some time later, when I was asleep, blissfully unaware of anything besides my twisted dreams, I was ever so rudely awoken by my current criminal in residence.

"Uh… Princess?" Skye said rather slowly, as if he were unsure of what to say.

Needless to say, I was not pleased with being pulled from my much needed slumber. I kept my eyes closed, hoping to get some sleep after he said whatever it was he needed to say.

"What is it Skye?" I snapped.

"The boat is sinking." He replied. My first thought was that he was trying to get back at me for kicking him out of my house and making him row.

"No, it isn't. You can't scare me," I grumbled, pressing my cheek against the damp, wooden seat. "Jerk."

"The boat is sinking!" He repeated, raising his voice.

I cracked my weary eyes open… and screamed… very loudly, "OH SWEET HARVEST GODDESS!"

 _PLEASE DON'T BLAST ME!_

There was water in my boots. There was water in my hair. There was water _everywhere._

"Why didn't you wake me!?" I yelled.

"You said it was normal!" Skye yelled back, just about as panicked as I was.

"This is not normal!"

"That's not what you said earlier!" he hollered, as he tried desperately to scoop the water out with his shoes. We were sinking by the second. You'd think the guy would've had the sense to wake me up earlier.

"I said to use the tape!" I cried, holding my head in terror.

Skye held up the dripping tape roll. "The tape was wet!"

"What are we going to do now!?" I screamed, losing my boot to the ocean in an attempt to get the soggy boot off and help Skye get rid of the water.

He looked me dead in the eyes. "I don't know!"

"I can't swim!" I cried, hitting the water with the palms of my hands, splashing about like a child.

If it was possible for Skye to be even more panicked, he was. "Then _why the hell_ do you even _own_ a boat!"

"I need one to get to my island!" I defended, frantically scooping water out of the boat with the palms of my hands. The effort was sadly futile. The boat was now almost completely filled with water, which was increasing along with my terror.

"Jill," Skye started, for once actually calling me by name.

"What?" I snapped.

"I'm so sorry my dearest, but today, you're going to have to learn."

 _And how was that supposed to-_

With strength I didn't know he possessed, Skye threw me over his shoulder. Obviously, I wasn't too pleased with that.

"SKYE!" I hollered, beating on his back with everything I had. "Let me down right this instant!"

So there we were, me strung across Skye's shoulders, screaming like a madwoman, while he stood there in a sinking boat with a dumbass look on his face. I was certain I was having the worst day of my life. Skye actually was. He never did find out why that day was so great.

"Jill!" Skye called, trying to get my attention.

I continued screaming bloody murder.

"Jill!" he repeated.

"What is it now?!"

"Are there any lifejackets?!"

 _I'm such an idiot._

"Uh-yes!" I stuttered. My teeth had started chattering worse than the day the Harvest King gave my merry, little house a visit all those years ago. "There should be one underneath my seat!"

"Any others?" He continued.

"...Just one!"

Skye swore under his breath, before sitting me down on the submerging seat. "Stay there!"

With quick reflexes, Skye was able to slip the me-sized life jacket from under my seat. Without asking, he thrust my arms through the holes, snapping the singular clip together without bothering to zip the jacket up.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, I was thrown overboard.

I screamed, closing my eyes in terror. Yes, if I wasn't so terrified, this would be the day that Skye would have gotten himself murdered.

The water hit me like a brick. It was so cold, I thought it would kill me on the spot.

"Skye!" I hollered, not opening my eyes due to them being covered in cold, salty water. "Why did you do that?! We're going to die for sure now!"

I was not unfamiliar with the dangers of hypothermia. Being the target of the town's worries during winter meant that I was always, _always_ warned of having my fingers drop off like they were made of lead. I was not thankful to the villagers for filling me with so much more terror at that moment.

Soon enough, I heard a splash beside me.

It was Skye… obviously. But at the moment, I thought it might have been something terrifying like I don't know… the Kraken… a whale shark?

"I-it's only in the distance!" He spoke through chattering teeth. "Just hold on!"

Suddenly, I was tugged forward. I thrust my neck up to avoid chugging down a mouthful of salt water. But I didn't dare open my eyes. It wasn't like I could do much anyways. All I could do was kick, doggy paddle, and hope that I was helping Skye move in the right direction.

That day, I actually wished that Mayor Thomas was around. It sure would have helped to have an Olympic swimmer on our side that evening. The guy _did_ brave a river just to save my plastic dog ball once. Surely, it would have helped to have him around.

But I wasn't completely alone, because, by pure willpower, Skye was able to lug our sorry souls to the shore of my private island, a good few meters away from my row boat's wreckage site.

My poor, dear boat. It would be truly missed. So would my boot.

 _Maybe Leia can find it?_

Leia was after all, a mermaid. Though I wouldn't trouble her with my problems… I totally wanted Leia and Daryl to hook up. Funny… At that time in my life, I was more focused on other people's love lives than my own. I guess you couldn't blame me with my options…

Eventually, I was pulled out of my thoughts by my bare feet skimming the slimy rocks around my island shore. As we pulled each other to shore, we kept close together, both for warmth and balance. I swore that if I didn't die from hypothermia, I would die from cracking my head open like Humpty Dumpty.

After pulling ourselves up from the dock using the last of our strength, we collapsed to our knees, breathing heavily.

"H-h-hey," I stuttered, becoming increasingly aware of the cold air. "W-we're alive…"

Skye didn't answer me. He just stared at the dock, shuddering.

"H-hey…" I prodded, starting to get worried. After all, I only _half_ wanted the guy dead.

Skye had always been, at least in my eyes, a rather unpredictable fellow. He was the type of guy that could lie with a straight face, show no shame whatsoever when he definitely should, and flirt with you when you threaten to kill him.

He also wasn't afraid to _hug_ the woman who threatened to kill him. Instead of answering me, that was exactly what he did; hug me.

"H-hey," I repeated for the third time since we had reached the dock. Awkwardly, I returned the hug with a very, _very_ brief squeeze. It was null in comparison to his literal bear hug. "Are y-you alright? We h-have to get inside now…"

We were both shivering like leaves. Through his soaked, button-down shirt, I could tell he was chilled to the bone. I was likely just as bad. We had to get inside.

Yet I couldn't help but notice during our hug that one of us was holding on much tighter than the other.

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A/N: So, how was it? Please let me know your thoughts. I haven't had any reviews in a while and I want to know. Though in the meantime, I'll still keep posting chapters. There's no way I'm stopping now.


	11. The Ticking Time Bomb of Love

A/N: Hey! I'm back. Thank you to _Mokki-chan_ for the review on last chapter, as well as to anyone who gave this story a follow, favourite, or simply read. I appreciate it!

Disclaimer: If I owned Harvest Moon, there would be more viable marriage candidates for Jill in DS Cute. Obviously, I do not in any way own the franchise. (I mean, Gustafa... _Really...?)_

* * *

We got in my island cottage through the bathroom window. You may ask why we couldn't just use the damn door instead of smashing in a window.

I was an idiot and lost my keys… to the bottom of the ocean. Also, Skye was shivering too much to act as a decent thief and pick the lock. I got impatient and shattered the glass with my only clothed foot, making Skye look at me like I was some sort of beast.

It would have cracked me up if I wasn't so _freaking cold._

There were many spouts of misguided passive-aggression on both sides as we struggled to enter my only locked building. ( _Really?_ What was I thinking? Pirates were going to come along and rob me? I'm pretty sure they could have just smashed in the door with their misused lumber axes like unheroic firefighters.) After plenty of cursing, pushing, and pulling, we managed to squeeze our butts through the narrow opening.

Every single towel was pulled out of the cupboards in our frenzy to get dry. Even as we sat side by side, covered in my grandmother's quilt and shivering like autumn leaves, it was still quite awkward to be around the guy.

 _Skye is an ass._

I had always known that. And yes, despite saving my life, _I still thought he was an ass._ A bit less of an ass, but still an ass.

This kickass farmer does not play damsel in distress. I was grateful that he saved me, but all that that meant was he wasn't a _complete_ asshole. I would thank him, but that was all I was willing to do to feed his oversized ego.

While I was sitting right next to the guy, our arms touching and everything, I couldn't help but recall how tightly he had held me just minutes prior. It concerned me. Of course, we were both happy that the other survived. That was plenty to celebrate over. I just didn't think that was _all_ it meant.

And that was frighteningly concerning.

The guy had been sticking to me like glue as of late. His flirting, while shallow, always came at me like a category five hurricane. Then the guy hugged me with such intensity, I was honestly wondering why I hadn't noticed sooner.

Skye was crushing on me.

This time, it was a bit more intense than Gustafa's hippy-dippy love songs. I had a real situation on my hands, because while I knew, Skye may or not even be aware. He was a ticking time bomb.

...of love.

I could think of a number of reasons this was a very bad, super terrible, catastrophic disaster sent from the Harvest King himself. For one, he was a lying criminal, who had given me little to no reason to think of him otherwise. To make matters worse, I was stuck with the guy until help arrived. Skye had sunk our only means off the island. Hopefully, the Witch Princess would notice the absence of her best buddy and come to teleport us off. If it was one of the villagers, we wouldn't be so lucky…

I really should have brought my teleport stone. It wasn't my fault I was short on money. Those Harvest Sprites really need to learn to play fair. Blackjack was supposed to be fun. Instead, it had made me the laughing stock of the sprite tree.

Just to let you know, I'm still the legendary blackjack sucker at the sprite tree. Those little demons have never let me live it down. It's a title I am more than just a little ashamed of, but whenever it's brought up, I make sure to remind the sprites just who saved their sorry asses from hell all those years ago.

Sometimes, they retort that I'll be the one ending up there. I then remind them that they were the ones who went there in the first place. As long as I remain a diligent, kickass farmer, I'm on good terms with the Harvest King up on Mount Olympus or whatever.

Although back when I was stuck on my private island with Skye, I was more worried about the horror that was love than I was about hell.

The fear I felt as I sat shivering beside Skye was equivalent to an encounter with the Harvest King himself. I was like the Witch Princess, fearing the destruction of all her fine literature. _No_ , it was worse. I was like _myself_ fearing for _my_ _life._

It was a very odd day indeed.

I could feel the nervous tension through the very small distance that separated us, though I doubted Skye could feel it, even if he _was_ shirtless. The guy took everything with a grain of salt. He didn't seem the least bit unnerved, while I was trembling both out of the cold and my newfound fear.

The situation was the literal _worst._

"H-ha ha…!" Skye chuckled. To my horror, he put an arm around me and drew me close. If I wasn't so freezing, I would have smacked him. "You're sh-shaking like a leaf."

 _You're trembling yourself, idiot._

"Shudup," I muttered, drawing the quilt tighter around my frame. "L-like you're doing any better."

"I am, actually," he sassed.

He actually was, but that didn't mean that I was happy about it.

"Smartass," I rebuked. My eyes lingered on the crackling fire in front of us, and for once I was grateful I owned a wood stove.

While it was a pain to use one on an island whose only way to get to was by a leaky rowboat, I was lucky to be able to scowl at the fire and not Skye's cheeky face. I don't think I could have handled looking at his face at that moment. There were just so many unanswered questions.

 _When? What? Why? Where? How?_

I had no sweet clue anymore.

That's why I felt the need to ask one of the dreaded questions.

"W-why?" I asked, my nerves making me stutter.

I could feel his stare on me. "Hm...?"

I waited a moment to gather up my courage. This time, I was able to not stutter at all. "Why do you like me so much?"

 _It doesn't make any sense..._

"W-what brought th-this on?"

 _Dude, Gustafa was more subtle than you… and he was playing a banjo!_

Gustafa had long since given up trying to seduce me, but I swear his love songs still haunt my dreams. There is only so many songs about smoking it up in a field of daisies that praise 'our love' that I can take before getting admitted to an insane asylum. I'm sorry, Gustafa, but that was not subtle at all, and you know it.

Yet you'd think that I could take a hint if every second word that came out of a guy's mouth was trying to make me swoon like one of the girls in Muffy's favourite soap operas. Maybe I would have noticed if Skye didn't flirt with every girl he met back then. I just thought he treated me like he treated every girl on the block.

I hadn't taken the time to realize the reason behind the over-decorated cake, the lingering glimpses, or even the excessive barrage of flirting. It all seemed so obvious then, but it made me a bit ashamed of myself. Was I really so naïve that those clues went in one ear and out the other?

Apparently so.

"Nothing," I lied, still refusing to look at him. If he was losing it, I would definitely lose it if I looked up at him.

"W-well, if you want to know…" Skye left off. I didn't have to look to know that he was giving me one of his smug, pretty-boy smirks. "I have a thing for pretty ladies."

"Yeah. I know."

Then, something terrible happened. It was the kind of terrible that made me want to run away screaming, but that was something I couldn't do because of pride. Skye tilted my head up to look him in the eyes.

 _Awkward._

I beat him to the point before he could say anything even mildly suggestive.

"If you're going to ask m-me to be a p-part of your harem, the answer is n-no," I choked out, all the while cursing myself for blushing.

Yet I suppose you couldn't blame me. I had just discovered that the attractive, shirtless guy beside me was crushing on me. That was reason enough to blush like a schoolgirl. I would have to ask the Witch Princess to make me an anti-blushing tonic, but I had suspicions it would result in much laughing at my expense.

The Witch Princess was never one to let me live things down.

"N-no," Skye stuttered, before letting out a short chuckle. A glint of amusement sparked in his eyes. "I was going to ask you if you were still c-cold."

"Thanks f-for reminding me," I snapped, as I pulled our – no, _my –_ blanket up over my shoulders once again. "And you're sh-shivering, too. Let's n-not remind ourselves of the torture."

He pouted. "Ah, p-princess, you wound me."

For the first time since my personal Titanic sunk, I smiled. "G-good to know."

Despite my sass, Skye returned the smile. "Anything for you, princess."

"Skye," I started, as I narrowed my eyes. "Y-you shouldn't say th-things you don't mean."

Dealing with Skye was always an issue of sincerity. Skye could be sincere when he wanted to, but unlike me, he was a reputable liar. He was a thief, so he obviously had that particular skill in his arsenal.

Sure, he had been sincere to me before. I was questioning whether or not there was meaning behind all his little compliments, yet I knew he had the capability to lie and had lied to me before. The question was whether or not Skye was wearing his heart on his sleeve or speaking shallow words.

"Princess," Skye sighed. He loosened his grip around my shoulders in resignation. "I lie s-sometimes, but know this…" a small smirk began to hinge at his jaw. "I would never l-lie to you w-without good reason."

It made sense then, why Skye lied about trashing the kitchen. I had reason to believe that Skye would only lie to me if he was trying to save face. If my suspicions were correct, he was trying to be on good terms with me, and if it meant telling an odd lie or two, he was more than willing to use his skills.

Nevertheless, I still wanted to make sure.

"Promise…?" I asked, as I brought my hand out of the quilt. I held up my pinky finger to perform the ever sacred pinky promise.

Without any hesitation, he complied. "Anything for y-you, princess."

"Good," I said with a smile. "But I h-hope you know only a d-dead man breaks a pinky promise."

My amusement reflected on his face, as he shot me a bemused smile, flashing me a perfect set of white teeth. "I know."

It was my turn to laugh. "You'd better."

I thought it would be a shame to kill somebody so handsome, even if he was a dirty rotten thief.

As I've said before, it wasn't every day I got to meet handsome guys who were around my age. Even if I wasn't intending on dating him, it was nice to have somebody like that around. It gave me hope that maybe someday, I could fulfill my late mother's wishes of settling down and continuing my long deceased father's line of kickass, family farmers.

Maybe someday, some guy worth dating would come along within a reasonable age, holding a squeaky clean criminal record to boot.

Little did I know, Skye had never actually been caught in the act. He had been walking free, within a reasonable age, no recorded criminal history as he was somewhat homeless for quite some time when we met and didn't even have an official address, _and_ he was one of the most attractive people I would ever have the courtesy of meeting.

While Skye and I sat by the flickering fire, I can assure you that the ticking time bomb of love made a few resounding ticks.

* * *

A/N: I hope this chapter was up to par. Also, I've recently made an update schedule, though it only works when I'm ahead. I figured since I'm attending university in September, I might as well binge write for now and have chapters ready for later. After I post this, I will be updating the schedule. Expect the next update in a month. I would say two weeks if time allowed, but it just isn't possible. I don't want to go too long without updating, so I've got to time my updates. Anyways, I hope you all have an amazing week! In the meantime, I'll be working on future chapters. Feel free to ask me any questions if you have them. Reviews are love. :3


	12. Gambling Hearts

A/N: Hey! I'm back! :)

Thanks to Ma _dara-Sara da_ for the review on last chapter, as well as to all who gave this story a favourite, a follow, or simply read. Your support is much apreciated.

Disclaimer: I own squat.

* * *

 _Why do you like me so much?_

That's what Jill had asked me, and what made me ask myself the same question.

Why _did_ I like her so much?

The answer lay somewhere I wasn't sure I wanted to venture. I wasn't sure I wanted to admit that I loved Jill more than I love myself, which is by the way, a lot.

 _Yes._ That's what it was.

Jill had made me face the truth that night. She discovered my feelings before I even discovered them myself.

I blame it on my charming, good looks.

Lots of girls had claimed to love me, but I'd never loved a single one of them, except for maybe my own mother, which I can't say I remember meeting in the first place. I'm absolutely positive that every woman I have ever met has loved me in some way. Somewhere along the way, I stopped trying to find love.

...until Jill stumbled onto the scene.

It was ironic really. The one girl I truly loved didn't even love me back, and I _had_ tried to make her fall for me, even if I wasn't fully aware that that was what I was so obviously doing.

I attempted to make her spicy, red curry because she seemed to favour red grass while forging in the mornings, wore my nicest clothes up until the Witch Princess blew up my house, flirted like I had never flirted before, and made her a cake with all the trimmings. To get all obstacles out of the way, I even gave up thievery.

I hadn't stolen since meeting her.

 _Okay,_ that was a lie. I stole according to her terms. But according to mine, I had a squeaky clean record. It practically shined like a diamond. I was obviously perfect boyfriend material, so I didn't get why she hadn't fallen for me.

Sitting next to her by the flickering warmth of the fireplace, I had the modesty to feel the tiniest bit exposed. (How puny that I was also shirtless.) I hadn't prepared for the situation of unrequited love.

In fact, I had just recently discovered that that was what the mysterious feeling was. The situation wasn't even planned for.

We had long since stopped shivering. The water had stilled in our hair and stopped leaving bothersome droplets everywhere.

It was also slightly more awkward, because we were both warm enough to know we weren't going to lose a finger any time soon but didn't want to leave the quilt because it was freezing outside of it.

"Feeling any better, love?" I teased in an attempt to break the silence.

"I _could_ be worse," Jill replied without looking up.

"Aw. I can assure you I would find you beautiful even if _all_ your fingers fell off."

" _Great._ Nice to know," she grumbled, the cutest little pout making itself known.

We sat there for a little while longer, just staring at the fire. It was quite dreadful, and I'm sure there were about a million things Jill would rather do than sit freezing next to me.

...like play a friendly game of blackjack or strip poker.

And because I highly doubted suggesting the second option would allow me to keep all _my_ gorgeous fingers, as well as my life, I brought up the first option.

"Hey," I prodded, earning myself a questioning stare. She no doubt thought I was going to say something as disagreeable (in her beautiful mind of course) as the second option. "Do you by any chance have a deck of cards?"

"One's at the bottom of the ocean. The other's in my sock drawer," she mumbled in response.

"Here?"

"Yeah," she replied, looking up at me in curiosity. "Why?"

"I figured a game of blackjack might help pass the time."

I mischievous glint flickered in her lavender eyes, making me wonder if it was a good idea after all. " _Ohhhh…!_ What are we betting?"

Jill has always had a love for gambling. It is a bit unhealthy, but I'll support whatever brings her home smiling ear to ear.

I didn't know then that while any game could rile Jill's competitive spirit, blackjack was a double-edged sword. She liked any game well enough, but it was blackjack that sent her home broke at the end of the day.

I couldn't exactly follow Jill into an oversized sprite tree, so I had no clue then why Jill was in such a bad mood when leaving the sprite tree on occasion. On the other hand, she came out most days with little sprites clawing at her feet and begging for mercy.

Of course, I didn't know at the time that blackjack was her least favourite game, a tempting one, yet always her downfall. I just knew she liked to gamble, so I suggested it to pass the time. There was no telling when we'd be able to get off the island, though I'm sure we both hoped it would be soon. Jill had animals to care for and crops to tend…

I answered Jill's question with a sly smirk. "Our hearts."

One of us was broke already. It wouldn't do any good for Jill to lose all her money and leave me to starve.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Of course, princess."

"Alright," Jill huffed, brushing a strand of damp hair out of her eyes. "But we'll have to play for I-owe-yous. I don't have much here… and I'm too broke for hardcore gambling."

In other words, Jill kind of had a bit of a gambling problem, but had enough sense not to risk owing gold she didn't have in the first place. Gambling was a risky hobby, but it wouldn't be her downfall.

As for me, I didn't have a thing to call my own anymore but the clothes on my back, which weren't even mine in the first place.

And no, I'm not into murder. I stole them from an unsuspecting, rival farmer of Jill's. Yes, that's where I got my food. They really need to start locking their windows. It's a bit unsettling that everybody in the valley has such lax security. That's how people _really_ get murdered. Again, it has never been in any shape or form, been performed by yours truly. I was just the slightest bit concerned over how the valley was the perfect setting for a murder mystery.

They even had things that went 'bump' in the night, a witch/part-time arsonist, a passive-aggressive goddess, and devious sprites who were more like leprechauns. Although I wasn't aware of the closeness of the fact at the time, I was told much later by Jill that there's a very real, very bald Harvest God in the sky somewhere with _very_ serious anger issues, leading to anything from book burning to trips to hell.

So when I think about it more, Forget-Me-Not Valley was more of a reality TV-show verging on a horror movie.

Getting back to things not yet known at the time of my impending love story, I was at the time, a broke, yet sophisticated former thief, who should have been surprised that he hadn't been killed in a miserably painful way by supernatural forces.

I was also unaware that if I ever accidentally hurt Jill in any way, I would have every single supernatural force of the valley after me like bloodhounds. That meant I had no clue what I was getting into… not that I regret it. It's just scary to be hiding in Jill's dog house, fearing for my life.

I naively told Jill, "It's a deal then."

"Yeah, I suppose it is," she confirmed, before bringing a finger to her lips in thought. "I'll get us something warm to drink… Not sure what's there. I'm sure you can find the cards? The left bottom drawer of my dresser is the sock drawer. _Don't_ go snooping."

She then clambered away, using her quilt as protection from the cold, while simultaneously leaving me to freeze.

While it was tempting to snoop, I complied with her wishes. I had already almost died once that day.

Once was enough.

Leaving Jill to get the drinks, I went to the dresser and found a rather weird set of cards that fringed at the edges, held together by a flimsy elastic band. It was obviously a very old deck, but it would do.

I met Jill back by the fire, two piping hot mugs of tea in front of her bundled form. She had also ever so kindly brought over another more frayed quilt, likely annoyed with our constant bouts of subtle tug-of-war.

"I hope you like chamomile tea," Jill murmured uncaringly. She reached for her own cup, cradling it on her lap. Sitting down beside her, I reached for it. She grabbed my wrist before I could bring it to my lips. "Careful. It's still hot."

I nodded, and she lowered her hand back to her lap.

"I got the cards," I informed her.

"Oh, great," she enthused, placing the mug beside her so as to not spill its contents all over herself. She then held out her hands expectantly. "Gimme."

I complied.

She smiled. "Thanks."

"You're okay with blackjack right?" I asked again.

Jill furrowed her brow in concentration, as if she was deciding whether or not blackjack was a wise idea. She then smiled assuringly. "Yeah. Sounds good."

I soon discovered that Jill absolutely _sucked_ at blackjack. Now, I'd played my share of card games, but I had doubts I had much experience.

Luck never came in Jill's favour when it came to blackjack. I was winning nine to three rounds, having only one round to go before earning my favour. Poor Jill looked about ready to shred the feeble scraps of paper.

...And she did.

"Argh! Screw it!" she cried out, ripping her held card in two and throwing it up in the air in a display of childishness, though I'm assuming she just didn't want to owe me of all people a favour.

I wasn't disappointed by her poor sportsmanship. It was mildly amusing how she was so adamant on winning.

"Aw, princess. You've ruined your card."

"Oh, it's alright," Jill chirped, flinging a slightly mouldy card at my forehead. "Besides, you can't win now, and you've lost your victory, so ha ha ha…!"

"Oh, no, princess," I said with a sly smirk. She took it as a hint that nothing good was coming, and pouted in anticipation. "I win by default. My prize is your heart."

Jill crossed her arms over her chest. "You're not stealing my organs."

"Just your heart. I bet yours is beautiful. I'd like to keep it… right next to mine," I added to her joke, while adding a bit of flirting for good measure.

She flushed a bit, yet swiftly regained her composure and gave me a taste of my own medicine with her next words, "Maybe I'll stick your decapitated head on a pike as payment. It's only right if you're planning on stealing my organs."

I placed a hand upon my heart in mock pain. "You wound me, angel."

"Did you hit the ground yet?" she chuckled.

"Oh, princess," I sighed. Teasingly, I brushed a strand of her damp brown hair out of her face, before getting my hand swatted away. "The Prince of the Stars can never fall, _ever._ "

Jill then took a long sip of her tea, long since having cooled. It may have cooled a little too much for her taste, as she grimaced.

"Cold tea?" I guessed.

She nodded.

"How very disgusting..." I couldn't help but agree.

"Very," she agreed, before placing the mug by her side so she could remove her blanket and get up. Jill then reached down to grab our semi-empty mugs. "I'll clean these up… unless you want more?"

I gazed at my own lukewarm cup. "I'm grateful, but I've had enough."

"Okay. I'm going to get some sleep now. There are some pillows and extra blankets in the closet, so help yourself. The couch is yours," she spoke, before pausing a bit in thought. "And there's some food in the kitchen, so if you're hungry, I suppose you can find whatever's worth eating. There's not much there, but for goodness sake, _don't_ trash my kitchen. I'll find out."

I smirked at the fire in amusement. "I promise. Goodnight, my lovely."

"Night, Skye. I'll see you in the morning."

I heard feet padding across the threshold, then the creaking of a bed, the lifting of sheets, and a heavy head hitting a pillow.

I got up from my spot by the fire. The warmth was nice, but there was no longer anyone to share it with. Leisurely, I walked over to the closet to grab a pillow and snagged a couple of stale cookies from the kitchen.

Nonchalantly, I munched on the cookies on the couch, all while staring at the not-so-distant fire with a sense of longing. I remember wishing I could play blackjack with Jill just a little while longer.

* * *

A/N: I hope this chapter was up to par. Jill has a complicated relationship with blackjack. She does hate the game, but is too competitive to outright refuse a challenge. Just thought I'd clear that up a bit in case she seemed out of character. After all, it wouldn't be like her to back down from a challenge. She's a 'kickass farmer'. As for next chapter, it is currently being edited, but will not be posted for a while yet. Due to school, I need to hoard a bit. Don't worry! When I say I am timing my updates, it just means I'm trying to post every month or two. Thanks for reading and please leave a review! :)


	13. And the World Goes Down in Flames

A/N: As promised! On with the show!

* * *

I found two awkward turtles sitting on the rocks one day.

No, I didn't feel like tossing them into my brew. After all, this is my best friend we're talking about and my newest toy. Watching them scream is joy enough. It was quite fun to see them scuttle away, Jill choosing to almost plow Skye into the side of her house, as she made a grab for the cottage door.

I was making my grand entrance, and I must admit it was a grand spectacle indeed. True to my reputation, I was hurling towards the ground on my broom, planning to stop just about an inch from the ground just to mess with them.

And I did, of course.

...but not without nearly giving Jill and her unwelcome companion a heart attack.

I couldn't help but fall to my knees in laughter, rolling around and getting my shawl all full of grass. It didn't help that Jill stomped over to me in rage. I wasn't scared of my best friend. If I had to guess, she was probably more angry at the punk scratching his head by door than she was with little ol' me.

"Witch Princess!" Jill barked, a scowl making itself known. She stopped right beside me, her feet directly in front of my eyes.

Hesitantly, I rolled off my stomach and sat on my knees. I met her enraged face with a hearty smile. I'm not scared of any human. Not even my best friend.

"Hey Jill," I greeted, casually brushing some of the wet grass off my knees. "How have you been holding up? You didn't stop by this morning…"

Jill always visits me and tells me what days she can't stop by, so when she didn't show up howling at my door that morning, I thought something must have happened. Jill is punctual, even with things as casual as visiting a friend. She's much too busy to stop in at odd times, and when she does, it's either due to a strange circumstance or around the time she would have visited anyway if there hadn't been a then finished chore to do.

I had been tracking Jill all day until evening, looking for some sign of my annoying, little friend. And where was she?

 _Hiding on a private island with a boy._

Now why didn't she tell me?

I was a bit ticked off that she didn't let me know and instead had gotten me out of bed before noon... just to make sure she wasn't passed out in a ditch somewhere. I had even asked the _townspeople,_ for goodness' sakes!

I asked the local stoner, cyborg, random girl friends of Jill's who are _not_ on her best friends list… I threatened to tie the Harvest stalkers to trees if they didn't tell me where Jill was and made sure the Goddess or themselves covered for Jill. (They were left dangling from a pine tree like bright, Christmas bulbs.) Then, having no luck, I swept the area with my broom.

No animals grazing in the autumn fields. No Jill.

I took a guess and assumed she might be still on her private island, but I didn't understand why she would be. As she often says, she's a busy gal. She had animals to let out of their pens and crops to water.

Naturally, I concluded that something had went very, _very_ wrong.

That's how I found myself on Jill's private island, trying to scare her for worrying me. Though to be fair, it was something I would have done anyway. It's fun and Jill likes me too much to stay mad.

It was nearing sundown by the time I got there. Villagers like to hoard guests, as I have discovered. I was starting to get a stomachache over the three servings of dumplings I had at the hotel lady's place, not to mention the absolutely divine curry served by some bug lady. Hence why I have recently gained five pounds within the day and have arrived a little late for my liking.

"You could have cracked your head open like a pinata!" Jill declared, shaking my shoulders as if I were a mere doll.

I continued to laugh. Maybe that little trick could have made a human bite the biscuit, but as I've said many, many times before, I was no human. I was a witch, and witches don't die from mischievous deeds. We live with them. I wouldn't be a witch if I didn't get to pull a good prank every now and again.

So I stick to being bad.

"Hey!" Jill huffed, still trying to snap me back into my senses. "Don't do that again, alright?! Your head's not a damn bowling ball!"

Feeling the slightest bit pestered, I put my hands on her shoulders. She stopped shaking me, seeming to take it as a signal that I had stopped my foolishness for the moment. My cocky smile only was returned with a poorly hidden smirk.

"So…" I left off, glancing for a moment at the silver-haired man near her door. It was enough of a glance for her to notice who I was looking at. " _What's_ been going on here…?"

Skye took that as his cue to chip in, walking towards us all while opening his big, fat, liar mouth. "I was just having a little rendezvous with my-"

Jill cut him off rather harshly, "Yeah, _no._ "

The way he was pouting, even an immortal terror like me could feel a bit bad.

...But _only_ a bit.

The guy had upset my best friend. There was no way in harvest sprite hell he was getting away with it without some form of punishment. May I remind you, I _always_ pay my dues…

...Unless it involves paying taxes, feeding greedy, candy-mongering children, or being nice to the mailman, milkman, police officer, firefighter, or pizza delivery guy. The people who come to my door never seem to understand that human rules don't apply to me. The way I see it, I shouldn't have to pay taxes on a home I've lived in for centuries, and I shouldn't have to be pestered for accidentally setting my neighbor's house on fire.

Humans are such pests.

...Except for Jill, of course.

So I didn't reject when Jill pulled me to my feet and practically dragged me into her cottage, muttering incoherent words under her breath.

"My boat died…" she muttered, all while pulling me to her aged couch. I plopped down beside her with little reluctance, as I was yearning for the details.

The details consisted of both how she survived (Yes, I knew the boat was worn. Don't look at me like that. It wasn't _my_ fault. Unfortunately, Jill has never been in favour of being swayed). I also admit to being mildly curious of exactly what was going on with the whole Skye business. Although there was surely enough room for the man on the couch, Jill had slipped her legs up to stretch across the entirety of the couch, draping over me in the process.

As for Skye, he sat on the floor in front of Jill, nibbling on a crumbling chocolate chip cookie with a steaming hot mug of tea between his crossed legs. He sat with his back against the couch, obviously trying to disguise the fact that he was going to listen in on our impending conversation.

Not that I particularly cared. I just knew how to tell a spy when I saw one. Usually, I call it gnome hunting, and I have a particular interest in plucking the sprites out of their oddly placed bushes and giving them what for.

Jill drew me out of my thoughts with a hefty sigh. "So the boat is no more, we don't have much more to eat other than stale cookies, and I am tempted to put Skye into a headlock about every odd hour… Sometimes over the stale cookies."

In response, Skye tossed a cookie up to Jill. She caught it readily, clearly aware that Skye wasn't going to miss a word.

"Thanks, Skye!" she chirped.

Jill then shoved the cookie into her mouth. I waited as she munched on it, puffing her cheeks out like a starving chipmunk. She ate rather quickly, as stale cookies aren't really as savory as the average cookie. In due time, she gulped.

"I'm so happy you came," Jill enthused, turning her attention back to me. She then frowned pensively, as if not sure of something. "You can help us, right…?"

I chuckled darkly. "Of _course_ I can. Who do you think I am? The harvest sprites…? The Harvest Goddess…? _The Harvest King…?"_

" _Witch Princess!"_ Jill exclaimed, eyes widening in horror.

What can I say that I haven't said before…? I've always been a bad little girl, even in the eyes of mortal danger. I suppose it's in my nature.

Though I should have known nobody gets to play smart with the Harvest King, not even I. Even if I get away with more than most, even I get a good slap on the wrist every other day. And let's just say the Harvest King has got a male ego so pumped with testosterone, he makes the world shake with the slightest bit of anger. For your knowledge, his 'slight bit' is actually about ten times larger than the average human's capacity for anger, or mine for that matter.

When the lightning roared from the heavens, I think we all jumped.

" _WITCH PRINCESS!"_ the king himself rumbled. The walls of Jill's island cottage shook in time to his voice. I'm pretty sure a chunk of ceiling tile landed about an inch from my ear, landing on the floor with a deafening boom.

Jill squealed like a schoolgirl, which would usually be very out of character but made sense with the circumstances. Skye started to choke on one of his stale cookies. I jumped about ten feet in the air, which I can assure you is completely realistic because I'm a witch and can perform such feats.

After getting a nasty bump to the head, I could do little more than cower on my knees, placing my hand over my head in futile protection. As for the others, I can say Jill was pushing Skye around, trying to figure out how to do the Heimlich maneuver and ramming a chair into Skye's stomach.

All the while, the Harvest King continued to roar, " _INSOLENT CHILD! APOLOGIZE OR FACE MY WRATH ALONG WITH THE PUNY HUMANS!"_

Despite my dignity, I liked to think that I was a wise witch. I knew when the Harvest King was about to seriously blast someone, and I knew when to suck it up. Dignity is worth nothing when you're either burnt to a crisp or nearly damned.

"I APOLOGIZE!" I voiced more out of fear than actual guilt. "OH, AND I'M ABOUT TO DO A GOOD DEED FOR ONCE! BE PROUD!"

Not a second later, he yelled back, " _YES, GOOD! IN ANOTHER THOUSAND CENTURIES, MAYBE YOU MIGHT TAKE MY PLACE INSTEAD OF THAT BLASTED GODDESS!"_

"AW, THANKS!" I cheered with glee. I couldn't wait to rub that in the Goddess' smug face. It would be decent payback for all those tea party invitations she has rejected. _All I wanted to do was give you the hiccups! Sheesh!_

" _MAKE SURE TO GET THE HUMANS HOME SAFELY! NO GOING ABOVE THE BROOM LIMIT WITH HUMANS ON BOARD! AND TELL JILL NOT TO CURSE AT ME ANYMORE!"_ the Harvest King lectured warningly.

I was, of course, happy to go without punishment. "GOT IT!"

My own ego took its own little spike, as I started to jump on Jill's couch, not even caring that bits of plaster were crumbling to the floor and my best friend was scrambling around trying to repair the damages and there was a hasty Skye grasping his stomach behind her, slouching all the while.

As if to spite the two for even trying, the power flickered out, leaving Jill's curtained rooms black as pitch. I could hear the duo swearing as they stumbled through the dark, listening to the next row of china shatter to the ceramic kitchen floor. The only source of light came from the coffee table, which had lit up just as Jill's candle centerpiece had rolled off and got the rug on fire.

When Jill tried to douse the newly discovered fire with a bowl of water, the stumbling thief tripped over a chunk of plaster. He fell right in front of the bucket, being sandwiched between the fire and what was supposed to put it out.

Of course, this resulted in a lot of yelling and screaming, mostly on Jill and Skye's side. While Jill ran screaming back to the kitchen, smashing into a few things along the way, Skye rolled around on the floor and yelled something about not wanting his 'new home' to burn down.

And me?

You may ask why I didn't help them.

The answer is quite simple: I enjoyed watching two fools amidst the chaos. For all the trouble it gave them, it sure gave me an awful lot of joy.

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A/N: So how was it? I've been debating whether or not to start a Harvest Goddess vs Witch Princess drabble series, but only when I find the time. I would like to finish this story first. Thank you to all who have been reviewing, giving this story a follow or a favourite, or even just reading! It means the world to me that people are actually reading and enjoying my work. Reviews are love. :3


	14. Breaking the Broom Limit

A/N: So sorry for the wait! University has been keeping me busy, but not too busy to disappear! :)

Disclaimer: I own about as much as Skye does.

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There are things I like about my best friend, and others which I think should be buried six feet under along with her grandma shawl. Yet I do think that if those peculiar traits were buried, they would rise from the dead to prey upon an unsuspecting village population or a nearby homestead. The shawl would serve as the ultimate fashion disaster.

Yes, that's right. I'm talking about the Witch Princess' tendency to take everything as if it was all one big, mischievous catastrophe solely for her twisted amusement. I'm talking about her habit of trying to save my sorry behind and then failing to help me with anything besides that which she had initially intended.

The second run-in with the Harvest King had made me queasy, not to mention jittery with nerves. Plates had shattered to the floor, along with my _super_ expensive cottage as a whole. Plaster had crumbled, wooden floorboards resembled very large burnt french fries, and _yes_ the water I had splattered had already seeped into any wood that hadn't been over-grilled by the misplaced bonfire.

And what did the Witch Princess do…?

Leave me to suffer… _again._

"Gee, _thanks,_ " I muttered sarcastically, as I plopped down on my dust-coated couch. Despite the itchy grains of plaster, the couch was a great deal better than the mangled thing that was my mattress.

The Witch Princess had finished her enthusiastic jumping, choosing to stretch out on the couch, hands folded behind her neck in lax contentment. She wasn't, however, content with sharing couch space. The witch stubbornly stretched her bare feet out over my thighs.

" _Relax_ ," she urged, eyes closed. It was as if she had born witness to incessant mass destruction on a daily basis. _Oh wait,_ she had. The situation was merely a walk in the park, hardly worthy of her supernatural attention. "I'll fix it up eventually. As you know, I'm quite capable. Take a nap. It'll do you good…"

Despite the situation, I snorted. "I would if a chunk of the ceiling hadn't ripped my mattress a new one."

A chuckle sounded from the foot of the couch, where Skye sat with his legs crossed. The weariness on his face told me he was as strained as I was, but his laugh rang true.

" _See…?_ He gets it," the Witch Princess offered.

I was about to say I couldn't expect anything less from the two of them, my best friend being the epitome of destruction and Skye being a liar-liar-pants-on-fire to most people he met.

My bitterness had still not faded, so I was glad when Skye spoke instead. I truly adored my best friend, and despite my obvious issues with Skye, it could be said that I had enough respect for him at that point to not want the man drowning, whether it be actual water or a wave of self-pity.

"I find Jill's wording amusing, but I wouldn't say her misfortune is," Skye corrected with a well-timed hair flip. "Princesses deserve castles, not half-destroyed homes." I could have sworn he was leering at that last part. The sass was reminiscent of the local twelve-year-old girl, Kate, trying to convince me that sprites weren't real.

Pft! Kids these days!

"I can agree with that," I mentioned.

My words were returned with a thirty-second-long sigh from the Witch Princess, filled with dramatized agony, " _Buuuut I waaannnnnaaaaaa sleeep...!"_

My response was immediate. "Yeah, but I want to work."

" _Jill, Jill…_ " she chastised, shaking her head. Her untamed, blond ringlets swirled about her face, reminding me that the witch hadn't so much as tamed her bedhead that morning."You need less work and more play."

"I'll drag you if you don't get up," I warned, grabbing her bare foot in a vice grip.

To this, she cracked an eye open. A permanent scowl planted itself on her face. I was pretty darn sure Skye would have run screaming if I wasn't wearing a poker face equivalent to a clown's ten layers of face makeup.

Let's put it simply. If the Witch Princess is upset and you are anyone who is not in her immediate friend group, you should run _far, far away,_ preferably to another planet. She will likely set your house on fire.

But the Witch Princess has her loyalties. She knew she had to help me. After all, she keeps her word… most of the time. It doesn't really count the days that she decides to spontaneously combust something or dump five liters of rainbow glitter glue on your head.

"I'll take you guys home, but you won't like my methods," the Witch Princess muttered darkly.

"Just don't go over the broom limit," I reminded, recalling the Harvest King's recent angry outburst.

" _Please_ ," she scoffed, swinging her legs off and putting her feet to the floor. She stood up and motioned for us to follow her out the door. "There is no broom limit."

I followed her, not at all scared of her travel method. After all, it wasn't as though I hadn't been offered a ride on her broomstick before. It's quite exhilarating zipping through the air. Besides, you just have to make sure you hold on tight. The Witch Princess wouldn't let me fall to my death in the first place, being friends and all.

You just have to keep your mouth closed, obviously. Bugs don't taste good. Also, watch out for seagulls. The Witch Princess may hit the poor guys. She's not exactly friendly to wildlife. The fact that she almost started a forest fire proves it.

"Then why…?" Skye started, following close behind me.

I was about to assure him that nothing terrible would occur, but the Witch Princess beat me to it in her own twisted way, "She just meant don't go so fast that your puny human, thief's head takes a nosedive into the ocean."

"You'll be fine," I added.

"You'll just fall off twice. I'll catch you… maybe. If I feel like I," the Witch Princess said, swinging my door open and walking out into the cool night air. She picked up her worn broomstick from the damp grass, balancing it between her hand. Skye and I followed behind her.

I slapped the weary thief on the back, making him stumble slightly from the force. It was true that he would probably fall off at some point. I did, and let me tell you, I hadn't been so scared since I discovered Santa Claus was Mayor Thomas breaking into my house. (It's a long story. Don't ask. He still does it each year. I hide under my bed.)

Anyways, falling off a broomstick is like skydiving. The only difference is that it is a sadistic witch that catches you and not a parachute.

It was understandable that Skye was nervous, but I wasn't about to deny the inevitable. He _would_ fall at some point. It was just a matter of when.

 _...Or when I pushed him off._

I was kidding. I think. The guy had started to grow on me like some weird type of mold. Maybe the really gross yellow kind behind the horse stable. When I really thought about it, he wasn't that bad. I mean, mold is supposedly not _completely_ bad. It can be used in some medicines, even if it would make you want to throw up your dinner just thinking about it while taking penicillin.

So the guy was not all bad, just annoying at times.

That was why I held out my hand reassuringly as we got on board, signaling to him that all was safe… for the most part. He eagerly accepted my hand and hopped on between the Witch Princess and me.

"Ready..?" the Witch Princess asked. I could hear the smile in her voice. She was certainly ready for some mischief.

Skye started to mumble a 'yes,' but I didn't bother. The Witch Princess was already kicking her feet off the ground. It would be unlike her to ask unless it was to give the illusion of asking. Like I said, she was ready for some mischief.

...At Skye's expense.

The poor guy _was not_ prepared for a trip on the witch's mystic broom. So while I gave a squeal of excitement as we set off, Skye full out hollered.

Riding broomstick style is no joyride; it's more like taking a spin on the world's most thrilling roller coaster. Some people (like me) are complete suckers for such things. Others would rather spend their time at the concession booths, wasting their ticket to go and gain their weight in cotton candy and tooth decay.

Skye has always had a preference for sitting in the (partially) shaded area and stuffing his cheeks full of over-salted popcorn like a starved chipmunk. Quite honestly, roller coasters make him sick more than any amount of junk food.

I thank him for keeping his stale cookies down.

The ride home was zippity-quick but notoriously reckless. I wasn't surprised to see him collapsed on the grass as soon as we hit solid ground. The poor guy had fallen off five times, which was, of course, each time the Witch Princess decided to do a loop-de-loop. She really likes her loop-de-loops, although I do think she made him fall off on purpose.

"Hey, Skye," I called, walking over and shaking his shoulder. His eyes were closed and he looked a bit pale leaning against the siding. "You alive?"

His eyes fluttered open, before eyeing me warily. "I am never doing that again."

"See Jill?" the Witch Princess urged. She was still on her broom, not planning to stick around. As her name implied, she still had much mischief to do. "He's no fun. I even stayed within the broom limit."

"You said there was no broom limit," Skye recalled, giving her a menacing glare.

The witch's face lit up. "I lied!"

Being one to get the last word in, the Witch Princess sped off into the night air, leaving a baffled Skye and an exhausted me in the dust, gaping like fish.

Skye then looked up at me questioningly.

"What? Did you swallow a bug or something?" I teased, my hand still on his shoulder in an effort to comfort the poor guy.

"I'm fine," he assured, straightening up. He smiled warmly, to which I let go of his shoulder as if it was scalding hot.

Skye's affections were strikingly obvious to the point where I knew if I didn't lay off the coddling, I was in for a relentless barrage of flirting. _As if he wasn't doing it enough..._

I let out a string of awkward laughter. "Okay, okay… Let's go inside. I know I said you were getting relocated, but my cottage is kind of damaged…"

His smile remained sunny. "No worries, princess. I rather like your home."

"I know you do," I muttered all while reaching down to my doormat and digging out my house key from under the worn carpet. "That is why I'm going to have to beg you to _not_ break my trust. I don't want to turn you in, and I _won't._ I did say I'd help you, and I'm staying true to my word."

I slid the key into the lock before pushing the door open. I kicked my boots off as soon as I stepped inside the comforts of my own home.

"I won't do it again," Skye replied, placing his boots neatly to the side. He gently closed the door behind him as to not let the cold, late autumn air drift into my toasty homestead.

I eyed him warily. "You'd better not. You get _one_ chance. _One_ chance, you hear?"

"One chance is all I'll need," he assured with an unhealthy serving of arrogance.

"And one chance is all you'll get," I reminded him once again. "But I'm actually kind of hungry right now. I could use some curry. If you really want to make some, go ahead. I'll even help, and you can have full reign… so long as you help clean it up. I trust you won't poison me."

I didn't realize at the time what a change that was. At one point in time, I wouldn't trust Skye with a fist full of red curry any more than I would trust the Witch Princess when she told me she had absolutely _nothing_ up her sleeves. But at that particular point of time, I trusted the guy to make me a potentially poisonous dish.

It's funny how things can change. I went from taking full control of food preparation to taking on the role of an assistant chef. I may have convinced myself that I didn't fully trust Skye, but my words were clearly wrong.

You obviously trust someone when you let them cook you a potentially lethal curry dish, then eat it without giving a second thought.

Obviously.

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A/N: Again, so sorry for the wait! Thank you for the kind words! Reviews are love. :3


	15. More Freeloading, But With Curry

Freeloading is like catching a cold but in a slightly good way. It's like getting a sick day from school; you may get room and board free of charge, but you still have to live with the consequences. Like my late mother used to say: "If you're _really_ sick, no television. Get your lying ass in bed, Skye!"

I always hated that rule. Life is meant to be lived; not deprived of its splendor. If life gave me gifts, I would greedily take them, mine or not.

But certain situations are special and very much so.

 _Jill is special._

And that is how I found myself knee deep in a muddy field, battling the forces of nature all while shoveling manure in Jill's place. The wind slammed into me like freight trains and the clouds peppered my back like an angry sous chef.

People truly will do anything for love, even if the air smells like shit. I grimaced and whined, but I did the task anyway. It just wouldn't have been right to let my princess suffer in the filthy air, breathing in wretched toxins.

Heaving a sigh, I plopped down onto what was hopefully a pile of stacked mud. Stormy days are not the best for field work, but Jill was so panicked over whether or not she could grow another yield of carrots in time that she almost punched a hole in the wall. It is apparently possible to build farm structures out of solid gold…

So while Jill slumbered miserably in her bed, I sat in a muddy puddle, staring lazily at the clouded, late autumn sky. The Harvest Sprites were taking care of the animals and for once in her life, Jill was beat. She was tired. She was done. Probably with me, but that doesn't really matter.

I was determined to win her over. If that meant doing unasked for chores, so be it. I would steal her heart of gold before she even knew it was stolen. She would fall into my arms like a lovesick princess, swooning at my princliness.

My clothes were wet and muddy, but I didn't care. The dreaded chore was done. I could finally sleep…

"What do you think you're doing out here?!" a should have been sleeping Jill snapped.

Only a strangled hum escaped my lips, "No worries, my lovely~"

"No worries!" Jill hollered, voice spiking. "What kind of idiot plants seeds during a hurricane?!"

"The princely kind," I replied softly, a cheeky smile on my lips.

Apparently, Jill has supersonic hearing, because her sharp ears heard me. "Oh, shut up," she huffed. An arm slinked around my limp arms and pulled me up. "Can you walk?"

I took a step forward without responding.

… and I slipped and fell face first in manure with such force that Jill's 'kickass' farmer skills didn't kick in fast enough to save me from doom.

This is one of the rare times I have thought myself to be an idiot. Don't worry your pretty faces. It didn't last long. After all, there is nobody so brilliantly intelligent as myself.

Maybe, just maybe, Jill thought so, too… She didn't laugh. Instead, she helped me back up on my feet once again, smiling softly. "You idiot," she chuckled jokingly. "You didn't have to do this for me. Honest. _Man_ , you are earning your stay."

She didn't bother to make any more conversation on our way back to the house. I couldn't really blame the girl. My feet scrambled for footing, so it was mostly Jill that held me up. My lack of support as well as the height difference made her efforts much more difficult, yet she prevailed nonetheless.

And just because Jill is caring doesn't mean she's gentle. I was literally dumped by the inside of the doorway as soon as Jill slammed the door shut. Sinking to her knees herself, Jill spread out like a starfish on the muddy floor while I rubbed my swollen head in pain. Jill made a dying whale call to emphasize the fact that we were as soaked as the sea.

I was the first to come to my senses and grab some towels, because I was quite honestly scared she was losing her sanity. But all she did was roll up like a burrito and stare at the wall. She left me leaning against the side of her bed, waiting patiently for her to say something; _anything_ to mean she wasn't mad again.

My frazzled mind was at ease when she finally spoke, "You know… Skye, you're actually kind of sweet. I mean, don't let it get to your head, but you just saved me like five crap-tons of gold today, and I'm pretty damn grateful." Her lavender eyes peered over at me with a happy sheen; one I hadn't seen before. And even though she was reminiscent of an overgrown, gargantuan caterpillar, she was an adorable little soul.

She still is.

"Anytime, beautiful," I beamed, trying to fill each syllable with honesty. " _Anytime."_

Jill snorted loudly, rolling around on the floor in a poor attempt at containing her giggles. A trail of laughter followed, but from my end. Before we knew it we were both rolling around on the floor, one lame joke after another, cackling away our sleep deprivation.

"Skye!" Jill laughed, rolling towards me.

I did the same, enjoying the bliss too much to care if I looked like a totally not smooth prince of the stars… and more like a loose baguette. "Wh-?"

The wind was knocked out of my lungs as Jill slammed full force into me, ramming me into the leg of her solid wood dining table. It actually skid a bit from the force.

I gazed bemused into Jill's playful face, not sure what to think. One part of me wanted to pull her into a hug, or kiss those smiling lips. Another part of me; the reasonable one, told me that I was an idiot. Jill was just being Jill. It had nothing to do with me. Her sudden laxness didn't mean she returned my feelings.

Not at all.

So I settled with tucking a wayward strand of warm hazel hair behind her ear, letting my palm brush against her cheek. "You're such a silly princess, but you truly are the fairest of them all."

Jill pressed her lips together before speaking, a rouge tinge rising to her once cold cheeks, "I don't know, Skye. There's a difference between silly and badass," she shrugged, brushing my honest words away. "Not everybody can rescue a passive-aggressive deity from Hell."

"Perhaps I could have helped you?" I pondered.

Jill snorted for possibly the fiftieth time that night. "Yeah right," she scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "What would you do? Woo the onions in your favour?"

"Maybe," I answered, playing along. "Or maybe I could have helped you. It mustn't have been easy."

"You almost cried yesterday when making curry and all because you chipped a nail," she pointed out.

"I did not!" I huffed like a fussy preschooler.

Her response was just as childish. "Did too!"

"Princess, it was the onions!" I defended.

"No, remember...? You can woo onions," And just like that, Jill turned a petty spat into a foolish jape.

I muffled a chuckle. "I can woo more than just onions."

"Ew, Skye!" she blurted, wrinkling her face. "Do you have to be such a manwhore all the time? Like, oh, sweet-" I muffled her swear with the palm of my hand, to which she glared at me menacingly.

"Onions," I supplemented, uncovering her mouth and wiping my slobbered on hand on my already soaked jeans. "And I'll have you know I just saved your home from Hurricane Linda."

She stopped glaring, smirking instead. "I think there's another one. Linda's having a fight with Helen. She didn't buy any lemonade at her kid's lemonade stand."

"Maybe I can sell lemonade?" I offered.

Jill shook her head teasingly. "Nah. If you're going to sell something, sell a specialty. Like curry. You're good at that."

"I'm flattered."

"You're welcome."

"...you want curry, don't you?"

"...possibly."

"What kind?"

"...yellow."

"Alright."

"...thank you."

"My pleasure."

 _As always._


End file.
